


Two Nights out in Soho

by FleurLennon



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: M/M, a bit angsty, a bit of smut, a little bit sexy, and very confusing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-11-30 12:45:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11463882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleurLennon/pseuds/FleurLennon
Summary: Starts off before 2x15!Magnus wants to take Alec to London. Question is: why?----Enjoy!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying to combine bits of the book with the TV show. I know it's not always coherent because of that, but I just can't ignore some things that happened in writing which didn't happen on screen! :-) Quotes are usually taken from Cassandra Clare's works or the show.

Alec Lightwood had been drawing a fresh set of underwear, some socks and a towel from his dresser when his cell started vibrating. He digged it out of his pockets and scanned the message. His lips twitched at the corners; it was Magnus. Judging himself by his reaction, it appeared he’d just caught himself sort of hoping and waiting for this to happen.

 

7:38 pm

_Are you still up?_

7:43 pm

_Very funny, Magnus. Seems so, I’ve just come from training and am wide awake. Although…reason tells me to go to bed early if New York is letting me. So, I probably will. Is something the matter? Did you manage to get any sleep since last night?_

7:53 pm

 _No, I had to work all day the rest of the day_ _- >_ _busy day (boring). And now I’m not up for bed by far. So…What if I tell you don’t listen to reason? Are you in the mood to join me? I could always provide nice incentives…_

7:54 pm

_I can be there in 40 if you want me to. Meet you in the loft?_

7:55 pm

 _Or I’ll portal myself right over to_ you _in 5. ;-)_

At this point, Alec intervened.

He dialled quickly. With regard to his clients, Magnus worked rigorously within the mortal 24-hour concept of time; with regard to Alec, he didn’t stick to it quite so well. What are 5 minutes to a Warlock?

Exactly. Whatever he wants them to be.

 

“Hey Magnus, what’s up? I thought I’d give you a quick call, ah, before you set off the new security we’ve only just installed today. Because, actually, I don’t want the whole Institute at my doorstep.”

“Good evening, Alexander. It’s my security system. I can slip through it whenever I want. Into your room, at least.”

“I see. Okay.” Alec took a deep breath.

How should he phrase this? It was a topic Magnus evaded and he didn’t want to hurt his feelings. But neither could he allow this, it was too dangerous. He took heart.

“We’ve had that before with Valentine. If somebody else had control over your body again or forced you to give them access to the Institute… Look, I wish it was different, but we can’t have a loophole like that. At least not one that is so obvious. I’m all for well-controlled emergency passages, but this is something we need to fix. No unapproved portals until Valentine is gone. Or ever. It’s my rules.”

He sighed. “You know I have to say that, you know best what happened to you, you know that only recently Luke tried to kill Valentine. You also know we don’t know who helped him yet. As the head of this Institute –”

“You carry full responsibility for whatever happens regarding internal safety. _I know._ And I understand. I just wanted to maintain a way to get to you if a situation came up.” Magnus frowned. Then he added on a lighter note: “But maybe I’m not the problem here. I heard rumors about something that happened at the Seelie Court. Maybe you should tell Jace and Clary to be safe instead of me.”

“I… I feel flattered, Magnus,” Alec started, “but I’m glad you agree it’s for the best. We’ll work this out first thing tomorrow morning – to both our satisfaction.” Then he stopped. “What?”

“Oh yes. I’ll tell you all about it. Apparently Simon turned down the Seelies and payed the price the fairy way.” Magnus returned to the original topic. “Alexander, I’m sorry. We’ll rework the safety spells until you feel good about them. You’re truly right.” For a brief, horrific moment, Magnus thought he could feel the agony rune pervading his every fiber again. He shook it off. Well, he tried to.

“Right, thank you. Apart from that,” Alec span around in a circle and carelessly threw clothes and towel through the already open bathroom door, “all of what you’ve just said now is Greek to me. I don’t understand. Explain?”

“Would you like to go to Greece tonight? We haven’t been yet. Or have we? Well, there’s always someone dancing a sirtaki in Greece. They’re great fun, the Greek. And the food is delicious.”

“Magnus, I –. Would you slow down a minute? Give me a chance to think!” Alec sighed again and disapprovingly sniffed the air. “I still need to shower. And I’ve got a lunch meeting tomorrow where we’ll prepare and perhaps even go through with Valentine’s transferal. I can’t say anything definite, we haven’t decided yet so that nobody can ambush us.”

 

Alec sat down on his bed and pulled off his gloves and trainers.

 

“Not Greece then, alright. By the way, am I allowed, by the Head of the Institute, to slip through my loophole tonight? Since it’s already there… And I’ll fix it once I’m in the Institute. I won’t even charge my after-office-hours prices.”

Magnus grinned at Alec’s reaction and knew better than to elaborate further. He continued.

“How I’d like to put that mouth of yours to use when you’re staring… no, I see you’re even smiling, probably about to pretend to be annoyed on the phone, but since you are alone, your face gives away that you’re asking yourself how I can be such an adorable nuisance. You look cute smiling at thin air like that. Just… Am I right or am I right, Alexander?”

“Hey!” Alec said defiantly. “Maybe it’d be best for either of us to get some sleep tonight. For you, anyway. I, for my part, was about to get ready for to bed.”

“I don’t see you wearing your night sweats...”

“That’s because I haven’t showered yet. I told you. You know I always wear them unless it’s like, frigging hot. Wait again! What do you mean you don’t see me?”

Magnus, at the other end of the line, rolled his eyes. He counted for Alec to get it in 3…2…1…

“Magnus are you looking at me right now? For real?!”

“Would you like to go to Paris again? A friend of mine is throwing a big downworlder party tonight.”

He wasn’t going to be distracted so easily.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Alec requested.

“Alexander,” Magnus laughed, “one. The middle one. Have you no shame.” He crossed his legs and sank back in his favorite blue armchair.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this! Look, right now I’m showing you in how many minutes you’re wanted here,” Alec snorted, three-quarters pissed, one amused. “And you should know I’m not usually one to go to downworlder parties…”

“But you’re not raising any fingers…” Magnus feigned innocence.

“Damn right. You mustn’t spy on me like that.” It was a statement and Magnus took note of how serious Alec was. He swished the image away with his spare hand.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m not going to do it again. It’s just hard to resist when you say you’ve come from training. Really. Let me make it up to you. What about London?”

“Why do you want to leave this continent so badly? Are you in trouble? Is something or someone other than I coming for you? Why can’t I just come to your place and we spend the night together. Don’t you want me to?”

“You can always do that afterwards. Come on, Alec! The evening is young, we are a fabulous sight people deserve to see! Do me a favor. I’ll buy you dinner, or breakfast. Whichever you prefer. Or both. I’ve wanted to take you to London for a while, actually. There’s a place I think you’d like to see. Or better said one you should see.”

 

Alec was intrigued. Also, London was a convenient place to go, he had business there. Plus, he couldn’t describe it, but it always made him feel something, some sort of pleasant fuzziness, when Magnus told him he was making plans for them even when he wasn’t around. Once when they’d talked about how it was likely for Alec to die young and unexpectedly – he’d surprised Magnus with freshly made, non-stolen coffee in the morning, had just come back from a very delicate mission – or that it was always possible that a situation might come which would not allow either of them to see the sun rise again, Magnus had said he would take Alec around the world. Immediately. That, if he wanted, they could travel with the sun. That for them, for those few moments, it would always rise. Yes. So that deep down they’d have this one bright memory to remind them that they’d tricked fate already, and so they would know that even if not for them, for someone somewhere the sun was always rising.

 

“Okay,” he agreed, “let’s go to London then. I haven’t been in a while, and I could verify something. I just need to wash. Meet me in my bedroom at…,” Alec checked the clock, “well, half past?”

“Or I join you in the shower…” Magnus smirked, contend with himself.

“Or you meet me in my bedroom at half past. Dressed. Or whatever you call that thing you like to do with, how do you call it? Ah, right, clothes.” Alec accentuated the last word.

“You’re so feisty tonight,” Magnus noticed. And he looked forward to spending time together even more. “Can I at least have a glimpse of you in your towel so that I have something to think about?”

Alec shook his head in disbelief. His intestines clenched. “Just, please, however you get here, make it your priority not to set off the alarm. See you in a bit.” Then he added, a little breathless. “Love you.”

Why was he such a terrible, incompetent flirt?

Before Magnus could continue to unsettle him, Alec hung up. “Focus,” he thought, shook his head, got up and made for the shower. He ordered his stuff on the end table by the bathroom door and hurriedly got going, because he very much doubted Magnus would wait 20 more minutes. Obviously, part of him didn’t want him to either.

It was a hasty shower, but it fulfilled its purpose.

London was a nice place, Alec recalled. He’d visited a couple of times. Once or twice with his parents, mostly with his siblings. They’d stayed at the London Institute – many Institutes had some sort of exchange program for young Shadowhunters –, but he’d seen a little of the city, too. Too little. And practically only during hunting trips. He wondered what time it would be there. Although there was always someone working or coming back from a mission in every Institute, so he’d be able to speak to a fellow Shadowhunter. No doubt about that.

Half-dry, he combed through his wet hair with his fingers and scrutinized his reflection. He contemplated whether he should shave. Did Magnus like it when he had a bit of a shadow on his cheeks? He decided that yes. Perhaps it made him look a little more mature, too. “Feisty,” Magnus’s words echoed in his mind. Alec grinned.

The knock on his door came when he was brushing his teeth. “At least he’s knocked,” Alec thought and looked up at himself again, involuntarily, kind of embarrassed by the expression on his face. It was something between giddy excitement and fear.

“C’m in,” he said as best he could, spat out foam and proceeded to rinse his mouth with water. Suddenly nervous from the tips of his toes to the tips of his hair, he checked his reflection once more before turning around to greet his boyfriend. As always, Magnus was a startling sight. He was the sort of person you’d find your eyes looking at constantly and unconsciously, without wanting them to. However, by Magnus’s standards, the Warlock seemed underdressed. Alec found it kind of suited him.

Pretty much anything suited Magnus.

He wore simple black shoes, gray washed-out jeans and a dark green shirt. He’d rolled up the sleeves up to his elbows. At first view, the glittering buttons of the shirt as well as the many slits that spread over one of his legs escaped the eye. At second, they captured it. To Alec’s satisfaction, he hadn’t toned down the jewellery: a variety of leather, silver and brass bracelets was dangling at the Warlock’s wrists and some of his weird rings adorned his fingers and – Alec was really pleased to see – ears.

“You look great,” he said. And he meant it.

“Alexander Gideon Lightwood,” Magnus smirked, leaning against the door frame with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, “please, let me return the compliment.”

“Thanks, but – shit.” Alec froze. He hadn’t put on any clothes yet. And his towel was lying happily on the floor, beneath his feet.

“Easy,” he thought and told himself to relax. He gestured towards his boxers and earned an appreciative nod and a set of ‘go ahead, what’s stopping you’ eyebrows from the Warlock.

Well, Alec decided, nothing Magnus hadn’t seen yet. He went over, picked them up, and put them on. Nothing half-hard to be ashamed of either. “Pretend you did it on purpose and go get the rest,” he silently told himself as he tried to get past Magnus. Of course, he knew fully well Magnus was aware he had been caught off guard, and he was sure it had both their heads filled with ideas. He wasn’t overly surprised Magnus didn’t let him pass with a quick welcome kiss.

“Thank you,” Magnus mumbled against Alec’s lips, “that was more than I had hoped for. It’ll keep me distracted all night.” With that, his mouth melted into Alec’s again.

Alec wondered why his head felt so hot from just a few kisses, but it all became very clear when he, scratching his scalp, noticed his hair was suddenly dry. 

Magnus’s voice was playful. “You’re welcome,” he said.

Alec laughed nervously, “yeah, yeah,” and lifted his other hand off Magnus’s hip so as not to accidentally find a way underneath the shirt. He’d been obsessed with Magnus’s stomach ever since that night when they’d kissed in the loft – when, after helping to save Luke’s life, he’d stayed for a little longer. They’d talked a bit. Alec had thanked Magnus again for the time he’d saved his own life. That had also been around those annoying days when he’d still had to babysit Clary, he remembered.

Those kisses had been the only ones he and Magnus had shared before all the trouble with Lydia and their marriage. Magnus had properly shaken him that night. Alec knew he had been acting on many impulses, already knowing, thanks to his sister, that his parents were going to make him marry. Magnus had called him for the first time ever that day, hadn’t he… They’d toasted and Magnus said he had wanted to see him again. He’d told him he felt something for Alec, something special. Then Maryse had called. He’d had to leave. Still, he agreed to have one more drink (or had it been two?), and Magnus had somehow managed to tickle out much of the sad truth about Alec’s love life in no time. He had a way of talking to Alec that made him want to speak. Magnus made conversation easy. Well, easier. And Magnus himself always had a fitting story to tell, too. When Alec really had to leave, Magnus had gone to the front door with him. “Never kissed anyone?” He had asked. “No one at all?” “No,” he’d repeated, ashamed, “not a real kiss –” He had barely registered Magnus’s “Come here.” Next thing he really remembered was being taken by the elbows and being kissed by the Warlock. His first kiss. Magnus had pulled him closer and closer, had kissed his neck. They’d touched each other for the first time, and it had felt strangely perfect for Alec. Meant to be. Good. It had been so confusing for him, he’d meant to leave then and there, but he couldn’t help going back in for a second kiss. After all that happened between then and now, it felt like as if that had been ages ago.

And, yes, ever since, his hands automatically went to the Warlock’s stomach. He just couldn’t help that either.

 

“Now,” he said when he finally stood in front of his drawer, “did you check the weather? And should I take additional gear, just in case? And what time is it in London?”

 

Magnus had let himself fall down on Alec’s bed and looked up at the clock at Alec’s wall.

 

“Count five more hours…that makes it half past 1 am. The best time if you ask me. Aaand you’re a Shadowhunter,” he said, “you lot never go anywhere without gear. Bow and quiver should suffice though. The stele’s a given I take it… And it’s nice, warm-ish. Just stick with long sleeves. You’re more prone to feeling cold than I am. – Alec?”

“Mh?” All the while feeling Magnus’s eyes prick into him like little needles, he’d donned a relatively light, coal sweatshirt and was about to put on a pair of black trousers when the Warlock swished up to him and pointed at something in the drawer.

“Are those blue jeans?”

“Sure,” Alec shrugged, “why?”

“Exactly. Why do you never wear them?” Magnus was way too excited for Alec’s taste.

“I dunno, Izzy got them for me. I guess black is less noticeable and more my thing.”

“Typical Shadowhunter. But we’re going on an adventure in the mundane world. Put them on! I want to see what they look like when you wear them!”

“Okay,” Alec said. Not that he cared much. Maybe he cared that Magnus cared. “Why in the mundane world?” He asked, stepping into the jeans. They were quite tight; to drag them up took a bit of time. The fabric and shape were nothing to go on a mission in. Inconvenient, impeding fluid movements.

“It’s our world, too. Just a different layer. À propos different layer… your butt looks superb in those.”

Magnus slipped a hand into his back pocket. “I kind of want you to take them off again,” he added and beamed up at Alec’s confused face. The young man was wondering whether and how he meant this, not sure what to do. Alexander rarely payed much attention to his clothes. What he cared for was practicality.

“Mh,” Alec made and chose to ignore Magnus’s last statement. Instead he said: “Let’s drop by the London Institute first, I have to find out about something.”

Magnus gave him his special face. The one which signalled he’d be compliant, but was also annoyed.

“It’ll take 15 minutes, no more, I promise,” Alec added quickly and rewarded the Warlock’s sulking “okay” with a rough peck on the mouth.

“By the way, I sealed the ‘loophole’ right after I got here,” Magnus informed Alec, “so, I’m afraid, we’ll have to go outside first. No more portalling possible in here at the moment. Set?”

“Set,” Alec echoed, sticking with the trainers on the floor since they were within reach, “thanks, Magnus. My phone will work there, won’t it?”

“Sure,” Magnus gave him a wink. Alec noticed how the gadget went all weird in his hands for a second. He raised an eyebrow. Magnus shrugged. It was better not to ask. Stolen SIM card or illegally changed contract – where was the difference?

 

-*-*-*-

 

It took Alec even less time than he’d said it would to find out what he’d needed to know. Nobody had even met a Sebastian Verlac in the London Institute. The guy he spoke to had mentioned that he thought there were Verlacs in Paris and that one of them was missing, but he’d repeatedly emphasized that he wasn’t at all sure. Suspicious and none the wiser, Alec stepped back out on Fleet Street.

 

“Magnus,” he looked around, “Magnus, where are you?”

 

Well, he was early. Magnus would show up soon enough (of course, all of a sudden, he’d had to ‘run an errand’, too). He sat down on the steps of the church and took out his phone again. Alec considered texting his sister. Then he decided against it; he needed to sort out this new piece of information before giving it away. But then again, what if Sebastian was dangerous? What was Izzy up to tonight? At the very, very, very, very back of his head, a voice told him she’d said something about having a girls' night in with Clary.

Now, that was an activity he wouldn’t be able to make up, so he trusted the voice.

Sebastian Verlac. Who was this guy really? And what did he want? Maybe, just maybe… Maybe he’d had to do with Luke’s assault. He’d need to be very careful around this person tomorrow. Even more careful than he’d already been.

 

“And, is it working?” Magnus’s soft voice wanted to know.

“Yes.” Alec got up and shoved the phone away. “Damn it, these pockets don’t deserve the name. Whatever… Now I’m all yours.”

“Did you get what you came here for?”

“Not sure, but it was worth a try,” Alec cocked his head, “are you hungry? You offered me food?”

“Starving,” Magnus exclaimed.

“Do you know somewhere in particular where you’d like to eat?  At this time? I’m up for anything that doesn’t involve stealing.”

“I do. Let’s go, it’ll take a bit to walk there. Well, actually, I can give you some options,” Magnus started listing: “Asian, Indian, Italian, American, English – but let’s not do that –, German –”

“German?” Alec interrupted. “Like sauerkraut?”

“Alexander! No!” Magnus almost burst out in laughter. It annoyed Alec. In a pleasant way.

“What? That’s the only German dish I know.”

“Why would I want to eat something as bizarre and thready like sauerkraut with you, voluntarily and without feeling miserable in the first place? More like types of wurst and rolls, burgers and fries. Not sure if that’s less stereotypical but who cares. You know what: I’ll give you a nice massage if you go in and ask for sauerkraut. Screw it, I’ll give you one anyway. You’re just too good to be true. We should visit Germany soon, so that you may learn more about traditional German dishes.”

“Your lips seem to be moving, Magnus, but I can’t hear any-damn-thing. Perhaps you should tell me all you know about Jace’s and Clary’s mission instead. You didn’t earlier. What happened between the Vampire and the Queen?”

Magnus’s face became a tad more serious. “That would be because I know little more than what I already told you. She offered Simon an alliance, but Simon declined it. Probably out of loyalty and love for Clary – my guess. It’s something we could bring up for discussion during our next council meeting… Next guess: The Queen showed her gratitude by forcing Clary to reveal her feelings for Jace, she’s that sort of trouble. I’m sure she wanted Simon to see he chose the wrong woman.”

“Wait,” Alec interrupted again, “why would she want an alliance with Simon? What’s he good for?”

Magnus took a deep breath. “Get your head outside that box and think,” he said. “He’s a vampire capable of walking in sunlight without suffering harm. That makes him extremely special and much more powerful than, I reckon, the boy can fathom he is – or ever wanted to be, for that matter. I think it will give Rafael a hard time, too. The other vampires will want to follow Simon and profit from his powers. I suppose the majority of them longs for becoming daylighters just as well. Can you imagine? A flock of Vampires out during the day? Now go figure what the Queen must be thinking.”

“Such an army could be a deciding factor,” Alec concluded, lips tight, “but you don’t think Simon would turn against the Shadowhunters because of hurt feelings, do you?”

Magnus looked up at Alec questioningly. “Alexander. Who knows what anyone does because of hurt feelings? Or because of Clary, huh. Shadowhunters are a peculiar folk. You’re the only ones who actually, successfully tricked yourselves into thinking you never act without control over your emotions, ever. That’s a weakness, not a strength, by the way. First off, it doesn’t help you to understand people who are not willing to exert such self-control. Second off, in my opinion, emotions often are essential motives for any deed in any person, be it a Shadowhunter, a Warlock, a Seelie, a Werewolf... it doesn’t matter.” He fell silent for a what seemed a long second. Then he said: “Simon is a good kid, let’s hope for the best. Amorous love is a very powerful, very human emotion. It can help root a fledgling like him, help shut out the dark side. Now he’s been dumped, I suppose, and that means we wait. His urges will become stronger, I think. I promise that I’ll see what I can do for him.”

“That’s good. Thank you. So Jace and Clary,” Alec said. Magnus wasn’t sure whether he was being ironic, humorous, or just sarcastic.

“I know. What a surprise,” he played along. He had no doubt Alexander was over Jace. But he also knew that Clary had been the girl who’d ruined Alec’s first ever crush. A long-term crush. A lifelong one? Magnus was aware that he had no right at all to jealousy, so he pushed jealousy away. What remained was sympathy.

For a while they said nothing and walked in silence. Alec tried to postpone further thoughts about the Seelies, Simon and Sebastian. He was about to go eat dinner with his boyfriend. They were in London, they were having a stroll through the streets. It was oddly relaxing if you allowed yourself to get into it. Of course, at night Alec couldn’t see much of the city. But it had a nice feeling to it, London. He heard the mundanes speak lots of different languages. In that sense, London wasn’t so different from New York.

 

“I guess this could be a place Clary might like to go and visit one day,” Alec remarked when they went past the University of Arts.

Magnus took his hand and squeezed it. “You’re sure right about that,” he said. And looked strangely happy.

“What?” Alec asked again. He felt he should make it his motto.

“Nothing.”

“No, seriously. What?”

“It’s just that you don’t even like her much, yet you’re attentive. It’s charming. Also, it tells me you see her for who she is both as a Shadowhunter and as a person, as a mundane, you might want to say.”

“Uhm…,” Alec said, saying nothing. Instead, he concentrated on getting used to the Warlock’s hand in his. He’d been waiting for Magnus to take it. It still amazed him how big things like that were so easy for Magnus.

 

“Oh, how come I haven’t realized there’s a new Harry Potter,” Magnus unexpectedly said.

Alec cut him short. “Who is this Harry Potter exactly? Some sort of Warlock politician or ambassador? I’ve heard mundanes talk about him and seen them queue up for him, even the occasional Shadowhunter. But he isn't in our database. And they all make him seem like he’s a saint or something.”

“Alec! It’s enough now. I may be immortal but I swear you’re trying to kill me,” this time Magnus burst out laughing for real. He raised their entwined hands and pointed toward a bookstore behind them. In the shop window hung a poster. It showed the cover of a book and read “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows”.

“Oh,” Alec looked embarrassed. “Oh. Okay. It’s a novel?”

“Oh?” Magnus kept cackling. “Oh?? Have you been hiding under a rock or something?”

“Come on, Magnus,” Alec grinned sheepishly, “get a grip. Jace is the only one of us who ever mentions books. And even so he’s not really talking about reading.”

“Come on? Harry Potter is not a Warlock, he’s a wizard! I mean, to some of us that’s the same thing, but still. Every child knows it, it’s common knowledge! ‘Harry, yer a wizard!’ ‘- a what?’” Magnus made weird voices, was shaking with laughter, folding in on himself. Alec could only stare at him in wonder. “Anyway, more like come here!” Magnus drew him into his arms and got on his tiptoes to kiss Alec, full-on. “You’re impossibly unspoilt. I love you,” he breathed into his mouth.

“We’re in the middle of the street, Magnus,” Alec said, kissing back only in a very reserved way.

“Oh, that’s true,” Magnus agreed and let his tongue brush against Alec’s lower lip. Alec’s wondrous staring intensified. “Welcome to Soho,” Magnus chirped.

“Soho? Oh right, I know Soho.” Alec took a step back and re-established what he considered a decent amount of distance for the public between them. “It’s a like a quarter, a part of this city. Like our Soho, right?”

“Yes and no, not quite, but it sure is an excellent place to go to late at night when you want nice food but are on a budget. Which we aren’t, but there’s more to Soho than just the food.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’ll find out soon. Allow yourself to be open-minded. We might spot or run into some downworlders here. Plus, I hear it’s been gaining popularity among your kind as well.”

 

Magnus started walking again. They turned right and stepped into a street which was pretty crowded. It was full of little restaurants and shops, and just as many bars and clubs. Because it was relatively warm, people were standing and sitting outside in front of the many places. They were eating and drinking, talking. Having fun. There was a lot of noise, much laughter and the almost rhythmic sound of glasses clinking. Alec was glad that Magnus appeared to be knowing where he was going. To his surprise, some people were being driven around in tiny bike-drawn carriages.

They were threading their way through the crowd on the pavement, still holding hands. With so much people, so much hustle and bustle around them, Alec’s grip on Magnus’s hand became a little tighter without him realizing it. The other hand was ready to reach for his bow. It was an automatism; any place this crammed was a ticking time bomb to a Shadowhunter. They were trained to think like that.

 

“All the things you hear. It baffles me,” he said and paused. He couldn’t spot another Shadowhunter, but that was fine with him. The people around them chiefly were mundanes. That much he could make out in passing. Then, in the corner of his eyes, he saw two men walking by, also holding hands.

It was cause for him to start to properly look around, always keeping step with Magnus. Here were some girls in quite daring outfits walking towards a club. Not relevant. Although it was possible that the doormen of the club were Vampires. A den, perhaps? Then, there was a group of ordinary guys standing in front of a bar. They were prime examples of the typical male mundane to be out and about late at night: drunk and loud. Not necessarily dangerous, but potentially so. At the door of the bar hung a flag which sported all the colors of the rainbow. Alec had seen it before and knew what it meant in the mundane world. “Coincidence,” he quietly wondered, doubtful. “Probably not.”

At second glance, Alec realized that a lot of the women and men in this street gave the impression that they were here with other women and men. Not only as friends, but also as dates. It was the aura that had him catch on to it. Some were leaning their heads on the other’s shoulders or standing in each other’s arms. They were stroking each other’s heads, backs, exchanging telling looks or even randomly made out. He could also hear noises from the side alleys. For a moment, he forgot about his shame and about how it wasn’t polite to stare like an idiot.

The one thing that slipped his attention was that Magnus was observing him carefully. Whenever and wherever they went, Magnus always noticed how Alexander’s regard was fixed on other couples. Briefly. Never long. Additionally, Alec was still extremely uncomfortable when Magnus touched him ‘too much’ (to Magnus, it was impossible to touch Alec too much) in public. It had taken the young man a while to get used to the idea of walking hand in hand, and if it was foreseeable that they might run into someone who knew Alexander (other than his family), it wasn’t uncommon for Alec to block Magnus’s efforts. Magnus understood he had grown up in a homophobic environment. They both had, and much of the world still was. Yet, Magnus had had much more time to become comfortable with his sexuality. Plus, he’d never had to care about his career or about what his family might think. Warlocks were more tolerant in some, and more restrictive in other ways. Sexuality was a minor issue.

Magnus knew Alec didn’t envy other couples as such. Well, he didn’t really know it, he just thought it wasn’t like Alec to envy other people their happiness. Alec usually tried to firmly ignore them and look away. “A bit too firmly, somehow…” thought Magnus, who was the kind of person who’d risk to look and openly share a smile. Love was one of the most heavenly things in this godforsaken world.

The couples might cuddle up together on a picnic blanket and feed each other food, or might have an emotional reunion at a bus stop, they might give each other a casual kiss to say hello in the middle of the street that – maybe – lasted a tiny bit too long. It might be no more than some naughty noises sounding from behind a window, a door, from the inside of a car. Something about it made Alec feel something. It might not be unhappiness, but it wasn’t happiness either. It wasn’t a positive emotion, and Magnus wanted to get to the bottom of things. It was almost as if Alec forbade himself to experience something. In the end, Magnus guessed one of the reasons why Alec still didn’t feel too comfortable showing affection in public or going to clubs with his siblings was that he still felt he couldn’t be himself the way his brother and sister and most other people did. Right now, he could literally see Alec thinking. Not much longer till he’d say something.

 

“What is this place,” Alec had lowered his voice and had shifted closer to him.

“It’s a bit like Greenwich Village, I suppose,” Magnus answered. He knew Alexander was tempted to voice premature disapproval, so he kept talking. “It’s also where we will eat. I used to go to a lot of Pandemonium parties here. When I still lived in London, I mean. Which was, by the way, in the 19th century. And although I was with Camille back then – who cheated on me with some Russian and left me here – I am very fond of this city. Ragnor used to be London’s High Warlock prior to teaching at the Shadowhunter Academy. So I very much look forward to making good memories here with you, Alec.”

He realized that Alec probably wasn’t going to be very enthusiastic to hear about Camille.

“Point is, Alexander, Soho is a nice place. One I still like and where I enjoy going every now and then. Naturally, I wanted to come here with you. You know, many of the people here are, even if only for the night, without prejudice. Young people like you. And some older people, too. I find it to be liberating.”

“It’s a bit much, to be honest,” Alec said.

“Eat with me. And if you want to, we’ll leave.” They had arrived.

“Herman ze German,” Alec read out loud. “Well, Magnus, they’re closed. They’ve closed hours ago.”

“Oh.” The Warlock said. “In that case –”

He started to fumble elegantly with his hands behind his back. “Very sneaky,” Alec thought. He easily recognized the tell-tale blue sparks. When Magnus retrieved his hands again, he’d conjured up two bags from a fast-food chain even Shadowhunters went to.

“Do you at least put money in their cash desks when you do these things?” He asked, arms interlocked behind his back, raising his eyebrows.

“What do you think, Alexander,” Magnus answered shrewdly. He looked around for a place to sit down and chose a small set of stairs nearby. Alec joined him. They unpacked their food and started eating.

“And do you read a lot of mundane literature?” Alec asked out of nowhere. Magnus picked up on his heedful tone. Was Alexander exited? Interesting.

“It’s an old habit.” He said. “But I’m not always sure it’s so mundane. I’ve problems with calling people that, anyway. When I say it, I don’t ever mean it in a negative way. Why are we always so displeased with them? They’re just people. It’s not their fault that they don’t know many of the things we know.”

“True,” said Alec. “It makes me feel pretty bad when you put it like that. I’m not really sure what to say now. I’m sorry? I guess I’m a person who naturally prefers to be sealed off and that, in fact, it doesn’t matter whether you’re a mundane or someone from the Shadowworld. I don’t know.”

 

It had not been his intention to make Alec feel bad. For the sole reason to lighten the mood again (obviously), Magnus snatched Alec’s hand and bit off the fries his boyfriend had been about to eat.

 

“Everyone has their own troubles.” He chewed. “Mundane lifes and problems may seem trivial compared to Shadowhunter and Downworlder lifes and problems, but everyone is dealt and no one choses their hand in the great game that we’re playing – involuntarily –, and therefore I always try not to judge other people according to my own standards. At least not when it’s really not fair.”

“You are right. But you eating my fries isn’t fair either.”

“I got them for you in the first place,” Magnus exclaimed dramatically.

“Yeah. The Angel knows under what circumstances. Do not,” Alec made a face and ducked, “touch me with those greasy fingers!”

 

Two girls went past them and giggled. Apparently, they’d overheard their conversation. Alec’s focus shifted, his posture stiffened.

 

“Here, everyone automatically assumes we’re together, don’t they?” He said in a tone Magnus found hard to classify.

The Warlock kept it straightforward. Reaching for his third burger he said, “Yes. I think so. They probably thought I was the dashingly cute and you the ill-behaved one. You know, the one who’s always uptight and serious and grumpy and who must be wooed extensively in order to be persuaded at all. A nearly impossible quest – were I not so accomplished and irresistible.” He tried to smile at Alec who looked back at him, eyes wide open. Magnus couldn’t decipher what remained – “For now?” – an unspoken question. And that was that.

After a while of silent munching he said: “It’s eerie how many mundanes get on the track of our world. More than once an author had me convinced that they must be of Seelie, Vampire, Warlock, Werewolf – even demonic or angelic – origin. The things they are able to imagine are more than close to the truth sometimes, and I wouldn’t say it’s unlikely that some of them really do descend from us, whether they’re aware of it or not. We are very good at tricking others. Demons are experts at it – I would know.”

He pushed away the memory of his father. Always an unwelcome thought.

“What’s the most interesting with regard to their stories is the perspectives they have. They see all of what we deal with on a daily basis with very different eyes. Some write as if they were afraid that, one day, it could all come true. Some downright yearn for it all to be true. Both might be because they somehow just know it is.” Magnus made a funny gesture with his hands. “Certainly, on the other hand much of what I’ve read was plain nonsense. Some people think vampires sparkle in the sun. Although… there are Warlocks who do and, mh, by itself the idea of Daylighters isn’t a far-fetched one. Just think of Simon. Also, mundanes figured that, should Vampires be real and wanting to survive in the 21st century, they couldn’t possibly kill a person every single time that they were thirsty. That they’d have to find a more ‘civilized’, feasible way to feed. Have you ever been bitten?” He asked Alec.

He got a prompt answer. Apparently, Alexander had been listening. “No. Have you?”

“Indeed, I have.”

“Camille?”

“Too, but long before and after her as well. I’m neither an angel,” he grinned at his own words, “– I run nightclubs and throw the most fabulous parties in the US as you know – nor a lightweight. Gladly, I’m not prone to addictions… So yes, I’ve done my bit… What I’m trying to say is that there are many mundanes who’ve been bitten by Vampires and suffer the aftermaths or become addicted. Their hallucinations allow them insights. I think I’ve read a few books of yin fen addicts, or former yin fen addicts. And there are, for example, quite a few ‘mundane Werewolfs’ who turn every full moon but never remember, it all seems like a bad dream to them. Before we find them or before they are killed, that is. Well… back to the initial question: the short answer is that, yes, I read mundane literature with about as much enthusiasm as I read our own literature. Perhaps because my mother used to read to me in the evenings. At the time I was born, it was very rare for a woman to be able to read, but she could and she did. Sometimes, she also just told me stories. It’s one of the few things I can do that remind me of her in a nice way.” He’d tried to keep his voice light, but the last few had been heavy sentences.

“I see. It sounds nice, too. I don’t remember my mother doing anything like that. Well, our parents taught us Shadowhunter history and stuff. They were more likely to ask us to identify five runes ere we were allowed to close our eyes.” Alec looked up at nothing in particular, his handsome features beautifully accentuated by the mixture of darkness and light. If Magnus were a poet, he’d dedicate this sight alone a few lines. Alas, he wasn’t. “I was quite good at that, though,” Alec continued, “so I often fell asleep listening to mom’s and dad’s words of pride and encouragement.”

“That’s great.” Magnus said. “You deserved nothing less.”

“Yeah, but what about Izzy? I think I gave her a hard time. They compared her to me, and rune studies or Shadowhunter history are not her favorite topics. Jace… well, he’s a different case. He already knew many things when he came to us… But Isabelle – she’s more selective than I am, keeps track only of the runes or generally things she chooses… because they are what she feels she needs to know. That never sat well with my parents when we were younger. Still doesn’t. But now I’m the gay big brother, and that changes things. Ah, well, mom’s opened up a bit.”

“And what about Max?” Magnus asked, genuinely interested.

“I think he is more like Isabelle. Or Jace. But, you know, there can only be one Head anyway, and throughout our lifetimes that, hopefully, will be me. If nothing comes inbetween.”

He bit his lip and shot Magnus an uneasy look. Magnus tried to signal he understood. He reached out and put a (recently cleaned) hand on Alec’s upper thigh. He gave it a squeeze. Alec, who seemed to have forgotten about all the people around them, started to speak again.

“It’s nothing they want to be, anyway. It’s more like they, too, always expected me to be up for that job. It’s the Lightwood birth right, and I am the firstborn… You can believe me when I say I think it’s awesome that Isabelle, Jace and eventually Max have different strengths. We’ll do a great job as a team. We already do most of the time, don’t we,” Alec firmly nodded at his own words.

“No doubt about that.” Magnus smiled. Alec was just as proud of his siblings as he was protective. And to Magnus’s contentment, Alec learned to see and voice his own worth. He was far from being in Jace’s shadow these days.

“Your mom, Magnus, what was she like?” Alec asked. He caught Magnus by surprise.

 

It was Magnus’s turn to look up now. Between the clouds and the stars, her image formed. A blurry shape only.

“She had long, black hair. It was thick.”

 

Alec saw that Magnus’s fingers had begun to move. He wasn’t sure Magnus was conscious of it. It seemed as if he was rubbing something between them. “He’s twisting a strand of her hair,” he realized, stupefied. These were sad memories for him. He should have guessed. Slowly, Magnus lowered his head again and turned to face Alec; his hand was now clenched into a fist.

 

“You know, I think she looked at lot like me.”

 

Alec saw Magnus’s glamour flicker, shaken with a very intense rush of emotion. Something unspeakable – Alec had no idea what it was, but he felt it, felt how it obstructed his throat, how it burnt in in his eyes, heard it buzz in his ears – clicked between the two of them. They looked at each other for a very long, mesmerizing moment, switching from eye to eye.

 

“Which makes perfect sense,” Magnus finally said under his breath, “because demons cannot pass on race or anything like that. They don’t have any. As to how she was, you would have to ask her. I –”

But Magnus couldn’t finish.

He couldn’t say it, not right now. He thought it, though. He’d thought it many times already. “Alec, I found her dead on the porch. She’d stabbed herself pretty much the second she found out what I was. And I think my father had a hand in it, too. Did she love me at all? Am I so frightening? Am I not worthy? I was a child. I’d done no wrong. I was just a child. I was a child and she stabbed herself. I was just a child. Alec, she stabbed herself and I was a child and I miss her and if my mother couldn’t, how will anyone ever be able to love me? How could you? When I am but a filthy Warlock. I was a child. A little boy with the eyes of a cat. A little boy with no belly button. But still a little boy, waiting for his bedtime story. I burnt down the man I thought was my father. He tried to drown me. They hated me, they hated me… and I was but a child.” It was the same old downward spiral. It had caught up with Magnus and sucked him back in when he’d been caught in Valentine Morgenstern’s body. Shadowhunters had cruel ways of getting at the truth. 

 

Worried, Alec shoved the long-emptied paper bags down on the pavement and shuffled closer to Magnus. He looked at their knees, he looked back up to him. Magnus gaze was fixed on Alec, but somehow it also wasn’t. Then the Warlock looked down at the carelessly discarded McDonald’s bags. He looked pained. Alec felt strongly reminded of the first few hours after Valentine… after Magnus had been restored to his body. And he felt just as insecure with respect to what to do, too. He pressed his lips together, licked them. Bit them. Opened his mouth, didn’t know what to say, closed it again. He frowned. He squinted. He put his elbows on his knees and supported his head with his hands.

He heard Magnus draw a heavy breath. It shook Alec to the core.

He shuffled even closer and hesitantly, shyly touched Magnus’s back. Magnus looked at him again.

 

“Alec,” he started.

 

Alec shook his head and drew him closer, guided Magnus to put his head on Alec’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” he said, desperately wishing it were true. He didn’t know what else to say. Of course, it wasn’t okay. Magnus was more than four hundred years old. He had long outlived his mother. Alec searched for Magnus’s hands and put them both in his own. He remembered that Magnus had been calling for her under the influence of the agony rune. Maybe she was one of the reasons why Magnus was so adventurous lately. Like he’d said, he wanted to make new, happy memories. “He must be haunted by sad ones,” Alec thought and felt very sorry. And very much in love.

Some of the people who walked by looked at them with pity. Some seemed angry. Alec overheard them mutter things like “Do you think he took something? He looks pretty rundown, don’t you think?”, “Did they just break up?”, “Well, they could at least throw their shit away before…”. A few even seemed to contemplate whether they should ask them if everything was alright. Alec mouthed a silent “It’s fine, thanks.” at them and shook his head.

 

“Don’t you want to go home,” he asked the other man after a long while, pressing Magnus closer to him. “We can come back another time. I mean, I don’t think either of us is up for entering the fray.”

 

Magnus sat back up and straightened himself. He disentangled his hands from Alec’s and lead one of them up to his chin, rubbed over his mouth. Then he reached out for Alec’s face and cupped Alec’s cheek. Magnus watched his bejewelled thumb glide over the young Shadowhunter’s cheekbone. The skin beneath the stubbles was soft. His fingertips enjoyed the contrast. It was, in a nutshell, very much like Alec.

 

“Aku cinta kamu, Alexander,” he whispered.

They locked eyes. Before Alec could ask what it meant he said “I love you, too.”

 

The corners of Magnus’s eyes softened.

 

“You’re dashingly cute and I’m ill-behaved, mh?” Alec said. Magnus lips curled up. Alec was relieved.

“Try to prove me wrong,” he said, “you’ll fail.”

“I’m sorry, Magnus,” Alec said, “if you ever want to talk about it, you know I’m here for you.”

“It’s alright. I’m fine. I just had a moment.” Magnus smiled reassuringly at Alec and patted his cheek.

“Let’s go then,” Alec said and stood up. He reached out a hand. Magnus took it and let Alec pull him to his feet. “Can we portal from here?”

Magnus nodded. “Theoretically. But I’d rather we didn’t do it in the middle of the crowd.”

“Me neither,” Alec said. “What I meant is: is this a zone in which portals work. Come. Ah no, wait. We should at least throw away ‘our shit’.” He bent down, fetched the – disgustingly greasy – bags and threw them into the nearest trash.

Where he now stood was, to his side, a dark alley. He waved Magnus over. Alec found that, going by the appreciative expression on his face, the Warlock looked like his old self again.

“I’m going to take off these jeans of yours very, very – excruciatingly – slowly,” he purred into Alec’s ears.

Alec was a little confused. Being confronted with violent mood swings upset him. “I thought this side street would be a good place to portal to the loft from?” He said, uncertain.

“True,” said Magnus, and dragged Alec right into it. He shoved him against the wall. Alec’s breathing quickened. “Magnus, what’s –” One look at Magnus was enough for him to get it. His eyes glowed green and gold in the dark. The pupils were wide. Anxiously, Alec stared back at where they’d come from.

“Let them watch,” Magnus said huskily. “You don’t have to hide. Not here. Not ever.”

Alec’s heart was racing. Magnus didn’t understand. He was confused. Too flooded with way too many impressions. “Go ahead,” he said in the end, voice low.

“Interesting,” Magnus stated. He stepped closer and touched his lips to Alec’s. Alec’s eyes fell shut. He almost sighed out loud.

It was Alec’s tongue who lured Magnus’s mouth into opening. Sensually, it parted the soft lips and brushed against Magnus’s teeth. Then – not without a slight electric shock – it collided with its playmate. For a short moment, Alec felt almost queasy. Both men shuddered. Living the moment, Alec laid his hand over the Warlock’s. Next, he proceeded to smack and grope his own butt, controlling and guiding Magnus’s movements.  

“Admit it,” Alec growled into Magnus’s ear.

“What?” It was not without satisfaction that Alec heard those words coming from Magnus.

“This is the reason why you wanted to come here in the first place.”

“Interesting,” Magnus whispered in return – to Alec’s frustration.

Alec opened his eyes. “I knew it!” He called out. “It’s not like I can’t feel the pulling, Magnus.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t fib.”

Alec raised his eyebrows.

 

They were standing at the wall next to Magnus’s front door. Not for much longer.

 

-*-*-*-

 

“There you are,” Alec said, pulling his shirt over his head.

Magnus hadn’t been next to him when he’d woken up. Alec had got up to look for him, and found him sitting at the table in the living room instead, with a cup of coffee. In front of a small mirror. Now, Magnus was quite narcissistic. But not _that_ narcissistic. “I think she looked a lot like me,” it echoed in Alec’s head. It made him feel uneasy.

 

Magnus, upon hearing Alec’s voice, turned around on his chair.

 

“Good morning,” he said. He always said it like as if Alec was the most pleasant surprise possible.

“I’d say the same,” Alec replied, “but it looks like you haven’t slept.” Again.

Magnus came up to him. His face looked cheerful. Questioningly, he lifted a finger off his cup and said: “Should I be insulted by that?”

Alec snorted. “No,” he shook his head, “I love that face… This is like the fourth morning in a row that I’ve woken up to an empty bed. Is there something bothering you?” He silently willed Magnus to tell him that, yes, something was bothering him. Alec thought of how they’d sat on the stairs last night. He knew the answer to his own question, and he also knew Magnus was going to play it down.

It was Magnus’s turn to shake his head. “Nothing is bothering me,” he answered and grinned, “I’ve even gotten used to your adorable little snores.” He put a hand on Alec’s shoulder.

“Hey,” Alec defensively cut in. “I don’t snore.” Well, all the more reason for Magnus to imitate him.

“Look,” he said, paying no attention to Magnus’s ridiculous ‘little snores’, “I know you well enough to know something’s going on.”

“Alexander. I’m fine.” Magnus leaned in to give Alec a good morning kiss. His left hand touched Alec’s right cheek.

 

He thought of last night again. About how broken and hurt Magnus had looked. And about how he’d made the same gesture, saying the most special words in a foreign language. Words that he had, nonetheless, understood.

 

He was certain they both knew Magnus was lying. _  
_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've tried my best to finish before the next episode. It was a busy weekend... I only just made it.  
> Thank you for all the kudos. I'm baffled.
> 
> Alec is somewhat out of character with regard to the show. Less so with regard to the books...
> 
> Let's all take Jace's advice and keep our fingers crossed as shit is going to go down tomorrow (2x16?!).
> 
> (Quotes are from the TV show [I warn you, I followed the show's dialogues a lot] and JK Rowling this time)  
> \---------

“So, what about you,” Magnus asked and walked past Alec, “have you decided what you’re going to report to the Clave?”

“Ouch,” thought Alec. “I’m torn,” he said and scratched his face, “if I don’t tell the Clave about Luke’s attempt on Valentine’s life I’d be in violation. If they find out I could be deruned.” Such were the perks of making important decisions.

Magnus, whose head was buzzing from his level of stress and lack of sleep, had not been listening. He put away his cup, returned to Alec and nonchalantly said: “Whatever you decide, I’ll stand by you.” This much was true. He would.

 

He squeezed Alec’s arm, and Alec could see in the other’s face that Magnus was distracted, was putting on a mask. And thus he followed suit and took hold of Magnus’s shoulder, thinking to himself that he had to try again.

 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

 

He wasn’t reaching him. No. He hadn’t gotten through. He could tell. He just could. And Alec couldn’t help it, he felt disappointed with himself. But then again – he mustn’t just make it his own fault. It was unfair toward Magnus and himself to simply exclude the possibility that the Warlock wanted to talk, but needed more time. For whatever reason. It was possible he might still come around.

 

“Positive.” Magnus’s voice was soft and comforting. He was completely in denial, which made no sense to Alec. He’d thought Magnus to be one of the most communicative people he’d ever met. Apparently, those two things weren’t mutually exclusive.

 

There was something in his eyes, though, and in his touch. Something that didn’t harmonize with his words. Just like last night, he ended up patting Alec’s cheek in this somewhat desultory, distracted fashion. The very same way you might pat a child’s head. As if to tell him “let it be” or rather “let me be”. “I’ve just had a moment” resounded in Alec’s ears. But, surely, this had to be more? Underneath his engaging smiles, the Warlock looked exhausted. How had Alec missed that last night? Why hadn’t he noticed? But he had. He just… well, what?

On the one hand it had been dark, and they’d been in a good mood for most of the evening. Their London visit had been a bit of an up and down, but the time they’d spent together afterwards had been… quality time. Well, at least Alec had thought so until he’d opened his eyes to find himself all alone in Magnus’s massive bed. Again. Again. Again. _Again._

 

“Care to join me for an espresso, Alexander?”

“Uhm, no. Thanks. I’ll go get ready.” Alec said and, still barefooted, patted over to Magnus’s bathroom. The many different rugs felt nice beneath his feet. With one last look out, he closed the door behind him. It wasn’t something he always did, but he felt he needed this separate space to think. And what he thought was that he'd better make this quick - which was never guaranteed if he left the door open. More than once, Magnus had considered an open door an invitation… Unwelcome sparkles spread in his stomach. He breathed them away. They weren’t wanted right now.

 

Because, on the other hand, Alec realized, Magnus also knew pretty well how to conceal it all with his good-humored nature and all that make-up (now that he used one to get ready, too, it occurred to Alec that that had probably been the mirror’s purpose). Nevertheless, the many sleepless nights definitely added up. The rays of the morning sun hadn’t been forgiving. Despite that eyeliner Alec liked so much, there had been dark shadows under Magnus’s kind eyes. And yet, the last thing Alec wanted to do was to pressure him into anything. He decided Magnus must need more time and probably more space, too.

Hopefully, that was true. He wasn’t so sure. More often than not, Magnus wasn't easy to read. Perhaps he needed Alec to do something else? This was hard. He himself was a very straightforward and blunt person. Even if he had to keep quiet, people close to him, basically Isabelle (sometimes Jace), always noticed he was in a bad place and they had their ways to make him talk, make him feel better. With Magnus, everything was still new and fresh. They felt close and comfortable around and with each other, but also were still becoming familiar. Were getting to know who they were. Which was exciting. But on days like these, it was tedious. It complicated things.

 

“I’m, ah, leaving, then.” He informed the Warlock when he stepped back in the main area of the loft. “Remember, I told you we had this meeting about Valentine’s transfer. I’ll reschedule it to take place earlier. I woke up feeling that there isn’t another second to waste. You know, I need this person to become somebody else’s responsibility _soon_. So… Yeah, I’ve got to get going. ‘S That all right? With you, I mean?”

“That is absolutely great, I agree with about everything you’ve just said,” replied Magnus, who was leaning against the kitchen counter. “See you later?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Although ‘later’ was a very flexible concept. An accurate time would have been more calming for Alec (and Magnus). But they both knew it wasn’t always possible. Today, the mission had priority.

 

Magnus saw him out. They shared another kiss. “Back in black, I see,” Magnus remarked, nodding down at Alec’s trousers. But he kept his hands to himself.

 

Alec shook his head in disbelief. How did Magnus do this? Why? His own thoughts were doing summersaults, turning over and over (and over) as they tried to deal with Magnus and Valentine and the Institute and the whole of New York at the same time. He didn’t want to leave his boyfriend behind like this. But he needed to get rid of Valentine in order to protect not least Magnus. Additionally, he was extremely worried something might go wrong. He really needed to get back to the Institute as quickly as possible – and he didn’t want Magnus to catch up on his worries. Maybe, without Alec here, he could find some rest. Alec really didn’t want to burden the Warlock in any way...

Still, overall, he couldn’t hide that he wasn’t in a joking mood. Anxiety washed over him in waves. During a short, irrational moment, he considered storming back in, ripping off Magnus’s clothes and throwing him down onto the sofa. Or the carpet. He squinted and shook his head again. This time at himself.

 

“Sure, whatever,” he said, leaned in for one for one more peck on the lips, allowed his forehead to rest for the fragment of a second on Magnus’s, and hurried off.

He wanted to show Magnus understanding – and he didn’t want to be taken for a fool. Although he didn’t believe the Warlock did it intentionally, the sleeping situation and everything it implied still annoyed and worried him. But he needed to clear his head now. To focus. This was going to be a crucial day. Only now he informed his siblings that they were wanted earlier. Both agreed and said that was possible.

It was a relatively sunny day. A nice day, actually, if he weren’t so nervous. Mundanes were all over the place. Alec thought about what Magnus had said. Of course, it wasn’t their fault… but their hasty running around still annoyed him. He walked past a bunch of kids who were, presumably, ‘waiting’ for their school bus or something. The noise level was unbelievable.

He drew himself up and, in passing, bestowed on the children a dark, angry stare. His best.

Not that it was worth anything. A little girl with a ridiculous ponytail stuck out her tongue at him. It unnerved him so much he almost automatically returned the favor. He shook his head and restrained himself.

Then he noticed something.

He noticed how a boy who was at the very center of his mates’ games – they were doing their best to distract him – seemed totally immersed in the book which he held in his hands. They succeeded, it seemed, in distracting about everyone _but_ their friend. Alec came to an abrupt halt. All at once, the girl with the ponytail looked scared. Alec seemed a lot taller and much more frightening now that his presence seemed to endure longer than she’d foreseen. But Alec had long forgotten all about her and her little effrontery; he'd stopped because he'd had had a sudden idea. It was a stupid idea, but not stupid enough to not act on it.

He’d still have the time. He checked his watch; well, he’d have it if he hurried up.

So he did.

He made a little detour. It was too early for the regular shops to be open, but maybe he’d have more luck if he checked out the subway stations near the Institute? One of them had to have a newspaper stand or shop. Certainly, at least one of them must also be selling books. “With a bit of luck,” he thought, “with a bit of luck.” Luck was definitely something he needed on this day.

With regard to Valentine, Alec had made his decision long before arriving at the Institute. He would put his sister in charge. It had to be either her or Jace, but Jace’s personal history was what had Alec favor Isabelle this time. Jace could and should be a part of this (Izzy would certainly think the same), but he shouldn’t have to be the one leading. No matter how much he hated Valentine, that man had still been the one who’d raised Jace for many, many years.

As he entered the great forum, he ran into Sebastian first thing. With an enthusiastic “Good morning, Alec. I heard you’ve accelerated our briefing,” the blond man joined him. Indeed, Alec hadn’t planned to tell Sebastian. He realized he had to be very, very careful. But Sebastian simply kept talking. Apparently, he didn’t expect an explanation. Alec wasn’t really listening to him; they were now standing at their table and he could already make out the voices of Izzy and Jace, could hear his siblings coming. From what Alec could _overhear_ , Magnus’s guesses had hit the nail on the head. The Queen had done something to Clary and Jace. Jace’s voice was insistent. Izzy’s a bit unnerved. Beyond any doubt, their brother was on fire about what had happened (so close to his parabatai, he didn’t need to hear it, he could feel it). But today, Alec was reminded again, there was a different issue to be dealt with. And for once, it wasn’t Clary. Nontheless, where was Clary? Alec scanned the room, but didn’t see her. He’d sort of expected her to be here by default. He watched the other two Shadowhunters approach.

His sister joined him and Sebastian with a fed-up look of resolution on her face. Jace looked a little bitter. Well, at least he was surely going to brighten Izzy’s day. Once they were assembled and he had all eyes on him, he lost no time with small talk. It was one of the best things with respect to Izzy and Jace. Neither of them cared for nonsensical preliminary skirmishing where work was concerned. He said, matter of factly:

 

“I’ve requested that we move Valentine to the guard at Idris. The Clave has approved the transfer.”

“Have you told them about the assassination attempt?” Jace, arms crossed, asked straightaway.

“Ouch,” Alec thought for the second time today.

The Head of the New York Institute moved his very head along with his words. “No. I explained to them that moving Valentine out of the city is the best way to restore relations with the Downworld. I left Luke out of it.” As if the Clave had needed a proper reason. They were eager to get their hands on Valentine.

 

Izzy opened her mouth, but she didn’t say anything. Sebastian was the first one to comment.

 

“It is the right decision,” he said.

Alec acknowledged him with a brief look. He chose not to add to his words but to continue with his own agenda. “But we have not given up finding who orchestrated the hit on Valentine,” he said.

 

Again, Sebastian interrupted, forcing them to devote his attention to him.

 

“I actually have a few leads on that. I’ll, um, I’ll get a report in by the end of the day.”

“Great,” nodded Alec. When Sebastian left the group, he didn’t consider it too great a loss. But maybe the Englishman would come up with a useful report, who knew? Anyways. Next topic. He found the eyes of his sister.

 

“Izzy, you will be leading the transfer mission. Jace,” Alec added, “you will assist.” Excitedly, Izzy, who was now beaming, turned to look at Jace. His parabatai answered with a curt nod. Agreed.

“We need to remove Valentine’s Circle rune,” his sister said, “the new wards in Idris won’t let him pass with it on.” Alec was content to see she gave Jace the honors. Jace was, according to the circumstances, pleased. So was Alec. But insecurity nagged at him. Magnus… Luke... Sebastian… Valentine… _The Clave._

“Tell me that I’m making the right call. Because, between you and me,” Isabelle had already left, “I’m just not sure I’m good at this.”

 

Jace seemed bewildered.

 

“What are you talking about! Look, you were born for this job. Hey,” Jace came closer and lowered his voice, “think of it like archery, okay? Just… just trust yourself and don’t hesitate…” His parabatai smirked. It was still one of Alec’s favorites and among the most reassuring things in the world to see Jace’s face light up. Despite everything, he suspected that would never change. “And beyond that,” Jace said in a more casual tone, “just cross your fingers.” Alec wasn’t so sure that Jace’s semi-useful advice was a favorite, too.

 

He snorted.

 

With a cheeky knock on the table Jace excused himself. “Good,” thought Alec. "Not bad." Things were finally taking their course. He couldn’t wait until the burden that was Valentine Morgenstern was out of his Institute. Next thing he had to do was go to the office and make sure the paperwork was up-to-date.

This would take a while. Alec, who’d had had no breakfast (just a very quick coffee from the coffee shop at the subway station), was nowhere near grabbing any food any time soon. But he didn’t feel hungry either. He felt like time was passing ten times too quick.

Really, he felt as if he’d only just sat down when Isabelle’s classic knock announced her at his door. He hadn’t even gotten round to wrapping the present yet.

 

“Valentine’s Circle rune has been removed and I’ve assembled my team.” She, too, seemed on fire. Alec was surprised though. How many hours had he been sitting here for? But it was the only news he wanted to hear that she was making progress.

He confided in his sister. “Good. I’ll feel a lot better when he’s out of the Institute.”

“Have you secured Magnus for the transfer?” She asked.

 

Had Isabelle asked him to do so? He didn’t remember that she had.

Still – who else would they work with? It was self-evident, really. And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t known she, like he usually did, would want Magnus. He’d just been caught on the wrong foot – which Izzy couldn’t know. He might be able to change her mind, though. Maybe if he was firm enough.

 

“Yeah,” thought Alec, “about that…” He stood up and, walking over to her, said – much louder than he’d originally intended – “I think we should consider using a different Warlock.”

 

When he left his office, his sister automatically fell in with his steps. He went on to suggest that “Catarina Loss lives in, uhm – ” But Izzy cut in. She would have none of it, of course not. Alec’s behavior revealed to her that, when he even admitted that he had already sought out another Warlock, something had to be seriously wrong. Usually, Alec would never ever consider trusting any other person with a job like that but Magnus.

“We’re talking about portalling the Clave’s most wanted into Idris. There’s not many Warlocks with that clearance. Besides, I want the best. And that’s Magnus,” she said, decidedly. All Lightwood children were gifted with equal amounts of stubbornness. Blessing or curse? A lot of people had asked themselves this question. Nobody knew how to answer it.

Her argumentation was sound, so much was clear. And Alec would’ve seen it the exact same way if it weren’t for Magnus’s current condition. To make Izzy understand, to prevent her from going to Magnus herself, he had no choice but to be completely honest with her. There was no other way. “Look,” he said, “Magnus isn’t exactly in a great place right now. He hasn’t been sleeping.”

She knew it. She pretty much always knew when something was up with her big brother. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Alec answered. “He says nothing’s wrong, but I can tell he’s not all right.” They came to a halt.

“You know, some people find it hard to ask for help.” Alec’s sister spoke to him in a serious tone. She looked up at her brother with those large brown eyes of hers. “If Magnus is hurting, don’t let him push you away.”

That reminded Alec of something Magnus had once said to him. But he felt defensive. It wasn’t as if he’d just been ignoring Magnus. He _had_ offered Magnus help a couple of times. What Isabelle said made him feel guilty. “Thank you for the advice,” he said brusquely, “but I know Magnus. He needs his space. We can use a different Warlock.”

 

Izzy’s expression was one of downright disapproval. Soon, Alec knew, it would be one of rebellion. She probably thought he was endangering her mission or trying to test her, although that very much wasn’t his intention. He was also (much more) sure she worried about their relationship. His sister was like that. They were like that for each other. But unfortunately,in this moment they were interrupted; unfortunately, they couldn’t continue their conversation. In spite of pretending otherwise today, he always valued his sister’s advice. He would have liked to talk to her for a little longer. No chance. And who were they interrupted by? Alec had to refrain from rolling his eyes. It took all his strength.

Sebastian.

The guy’s ramblings about how he – after boldly announcing to have actual leads – had been unable to trace the traitor _at all_ seemed self-contradictory to Alec. Also, Alec was certain he himself would easily be able to come up with at least four to seven revengeful, high-ranking Shadowhunters _on the spot_. No need for personnel files there. “Ah, whatever.” Alec kept his face straight and listened.

“Well, send me the list when you’re done with it,” he said.

 

He got distracted.

 

All of a sudden, an old friend of his family stood in the middle of the Institute. Alec was delighted, but nonplussed. She’d not announced herself. If anyone ought to have received information on Aline’s plans to visit them, it should have been him. Then again, if anyone was truly able to be stealthy and discreet _and_ successful when it came to plans, it was Aline. It was always a pleasure to go on a mission with her.

Izzy was overjoyed, he could see it in her face. Without further thought, brother and sister descended the stairs of the great forum with Sebastian in tow. Without further ado, Isabelle flung herself into Aline’s arms. Alec grinned whole-heartedly at the two. He’d always felt like as if there was some kind of unspeakable, yet very strong connection between him and Aline Penhallow. And now that he saw her and heard her speak of – “No,” he realized, “to…” – her cousin, something finally made sense. What had that guy said about there being Verlacs in Paris yesterday? Of course, the Head of the Paris Institute was a Verlac. Élodie Verlac. He turned to look at Sebastian, taken aback. Literally, he took a step back.

 This was going to be enlightening.

Sadly, he was robbed of the chance to observe the situation much longer. One of their fellow Shadowhunters was approaching him with a questioning expression on his face. Alec had no other choice but to excuse himself. “Damn it,” he thought. But perhaps he’d been too suspicious. He thought of Jace. Alec’s notorious distrust was something Jace continuously made fun of, not always in a light-hearted manner. So, perhaps being overly suspicious wasn’t unlike him. With Aline confirming Sebastian’s identity, the mystery of the blond man from England automatically became much less urgent. He relaxed a little bit. One less problem.

It wasn’t before dawn that he got the chance to comply with Izzy’s request. She’d made herself clear.

 

5:39 pm:

_We need Magnus. No other Warlock will do. You know that as much as I do. Under normal circumstances, you’d never even consider working with another Warlock… Alec, please, for his and your own sake, go talk to him and ask him. We need him. Not only because he’s the best (he definitely is), but also because he belongs at our – at your side during this mission. You’ve put me in charge of it. I say we need Magnus._

_Love x_

It wasn’t that Alec didn’t admit that she was right. It was that he didn’t want a weakened Magnus Bane anywhere near Valentine. Imprisonment had done nothing to break Valentine’s will. If anything, Valentine’s calm, cool attitude had them all on edge. So, for many reasons, he was scared of what might happen if the two of them met again too soon. And he still didn't know how to make Magnus feel better when he, apparently, really didn’t think anything of the sort was necessary, or at least didn't want Alec to do so. Not that talking was an absolutely necessary prerequisite for Magnus’s deployment in the mission. But Alec couldn’t shake the feeling that the Warlock’s troubles had to do with Magnus’s in-Valentine’s-body experience. By the Angel. If that was true and something – anything – went wrong again, Alec had no idea how to bear the responsibility of it _again_. It had been impossible enough the first time.

All the way to Magnus’s apartment, he practiced and repeated in his head what he would say. How he would try to approach Magnus this time. He’d tried exercising restraint, maybe he’d have to be pushier, more unyielding. Nervously, he fumbled for his keys.

Right upon entering, he spotted Magnus in the yellow armchair next to his favorite blue one. Something kept him from saying “hello”. Alec carefully placed the plastic bag he’d brought on the floor by the door and remained quiet. Had Magnus not noticed that someone had just set foot in the loft? For real? That was bad. Extremely bad. Alec crossed his arms and remained in the shadows, contemplating what he didn’t dare believe. Absentmindedly, Magnus took a sip of the drink he was holding in his hand. Then nothing. Then another sip.

Then nothing.

The young man had seen enough to know Isabelle was right. They had to talk.

Magnus, for his part, had repeatedly seen enough to know that nothing was right anymore. For days (for hundreds of years, really), his mind had been haunted. He’d try to tell himself that it was wrong, perverted, post-traumatic. He’d try to relive it with all he had so as to process it. Neither approach had worked. So, at some point, he’d decided to end his life, but Camille had prevented him from doing so. At her side, he’d been okay for a while.

But he was back at it again. Whatever he tried, it made him feel worse. Additionally, he was still experiencing the beneficial aftermath of this darned rune. Eventually, he had tried to take the bull by the horns once more, had thrown himself out there thinking that he could overcome this again if only he had enough pleasant distractions, enough nice things to do and look forward to. If only he had Alexander by his side as much and as often as possible. But right now there was no Alexander. Alexander was working. A small voice reproached him that he should be working as well. He drank to it. Well, Alexander had no idea, anyway. _Plus_ , Magnus was terrified that, if Alexander had any idea at all, there would never be any Alexander for him again, ever.

Yet, there was always his good, old friend Señor Alcohol. Intoxication was always a go-to. It just was very hard to get to his place after so many centuries, and on top of that in an immortal body. The journey took awfully long and meanwhile, en route, left a lot of time for unwelcome thoughts. And somehow he always ended up in the wrong house. There, he'd landed on that disastrous veranda again (for some reason, he heard his mouth cry out for his mother, not for liquor), lifted the blanket. Discovered his mother, lifeless, dead. He screamed.

 

“Magnus,” Alec said, took off his jacket and walked right into the living room area. No reaction. “Magnus?” Alec repeated.

 

Finally, the man’s face came to life and he responded. Magnus’s gaze found Alec’s. He looked a bit embarrassed. As if Alec had caught him at something.

It was symptomatic for Magnus to try to cover it all up.

 

“Well, hello,” he said, rising to his feet. If his friend still refused to come to him, he'd have to outsmart him - and he knew just how. Magnus went to his liquor table. Alec grew more worried by the second – Magnus wouldn’t even come and kiss him first. “I was just about to make myself a drink. You want one?”

 

Alec frowned. Impatient, he threw his jacket to the side. Magnus already _had_ a drink. His glass was still half-full. But he’d heard stories about Magnus. So far, when he’d mixed cocktails for Alec, Alec had never witnessed anything too excessive. It had always been fun – mostly for Magnus, because Alec was a lousy drinker. But it was an open secret that Magnus had gotten unspeakably wasted a few times in his life. Someone, he wasn’t sure who it had been, had told him how, after a breakup with some Peruvian musician, Magnus had been drinking so heavily that he’d passed out and been sick for days afterwards. Therefore, Magnus’s current devotion to drinking probably wasn’t too good a sign. Had the Warlock been doing this for the last few days already? Sit at home in his chair, drunk, alone? Hadn't he said that he'd be working? Or that he had been working?

 

“No,” he answered eventually. “We’re transporting Valentine to Idris.” Shouldn’t he remember that? What was going on?

“Even more reason,” Magnus stated, “we can toast to Valentine’s highly anticipated departure.” The way he said it made Alec feel uneasy.

 

He was no longer willing to beat around the bush. His voice sounded a bit wooden, gave away that he was, in fact, making a huge effort to maintain his calm. He was inexperienced when it came to this sort of talking. There was nothing he could do about that now. All he could do was trust his gut and, like Jace had said, cross his fingers with regard to the rest. Perhaps his parabatai’s advice hadn’t been so bad after all.

 

“I love you,” he started, “and I know something’s wrong.” Magnus paused in his movements, the bottle still in his hands. He was listening. “Whatever it is, I’m here for you.”

Magnus turned over to him. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine.” Alec could sense refusal and impatience in the Warlock’s soft voice. ‘Cut it out’ said his face.

He wasn’t going to. Not again. “No, you’re not.” Alec insisted, emphatically. “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to leave until you talk to me… Do you remember when you said ‘When things get crazy, don’t push me away’?”

 

He instantly knew he hit home. Thank the Angel. And Izzy.

 

With resignation and apparent difficulty, Magnus put down all the things he’d been holding in his beautiful, delicate hands. When he turned to face Alec this time, Alec could see he’d definitely broken through. Magnus was fiddling with his fingers, averting his eyes. Finally, he began to speak:

 

“When I was tortured in Valentine’s body… that Agony rune…” he glanced up at Alexander, whose eyes were focused on him, and shook his head “it… made me relive my worst memory.” At once, he felt this overwhelming urge to tell Alexander so very badly again. He longed for his comfort. But he was terrified Alec would not want to comfort him once he knew, that Magnus didn’t deserve his consolation. Because, if he was honest with himself, he didn’t. He gasped for breath. “And now,” he almost hissed, “I can’t get it out of my head. It… Every time I close my eyes, it…”

Magnus was struggling for air and for words. He felt that, if he didn’t sit back down, his knees would give way. He made it to his chair (the blue one) and dropped down. Alec was anxious. Scared, even. He had no idea what was coming, but he had read and heard enough about the Agony rune to realize how terrible Magnus must be affected by it. To his own amazement, that part of him which didn’t care for his own feelings, which wanted to do nothing but be there for his boyfriend, took charge. It followed Magnus to the chair and got to its knees in front of it. There was no way Alec was going to leave the Warlock alone with this, not even physically. Magnus needed to see his face. He needed to see Magnus’s face, too. They needed to be close. Very much so.

 

“Hey,” he said as soothingly as he could, “what is it?” Like last night, Magnus wasn’t really looking at anything that was there. He was somewhere else, somewhere he was now going to take Alec.

 

“Remember,” Magnus said, “I told you how I found my mother dead by her own hand…” Alec nodded. “My stepfather found me shortly after. He screamed at me. He called me an abomination.”

Alec’s voice was barely audible, merely a whisper. “What?” He didn’t understand. He thought of his little brother, of Max. “How?” He asked himself. “Who? Why? _How?_ ”

 

“He was right.” Magnus said so with a dry sob. The emptiness of the Warlock’s words had Alec hold on to himself. He wasn’t aware of it, but he was hugging himself for comfort. “He blamed me for her suicide.” Magnus continued. “He said that she hated herself for giving birth to a monster.”

 

Alec was shocked. _Magnus was no monster._ He didn’t know what he was feeling. He saw that Magnus was hurting. He’d never seen the other man cry. He was about to see him cry now.

 

“So I lashed out,” Magnus let him know, “with all”, he shook his head, “the magic… I had. I burnt him, Alexander, right where he stood. I murdered my stepfather.”

 

Alec mirrored Magnus and shook his head, too. He was staring at the Warlock, trying to fathom his pain. He could barely imagine him, a small child, go through this. Go through any of it. Or anything like it. But here the little boy sat, in a grown man’s body. There was little trace of the man who was much older and much wiser than most people he knew. Yes, Alec felt it was a different Magnus who he was talking to now. For the first time, Alec really felt older than Magnus. He’d not thought it possible.

 

“You were just a boy,” he tried to rationalize what he’d just heard, “you weren’t in control of your powers.”

Magnus raised his eyebrows. Tears were running down his cheeks. “Yes,” he disagreed, “actually, I was.”

 

Alec slightly opened his mouth, about to speak. He wanted to contradict Magnus, he wanted to say that no Warlock so young was in control of their powers. Although, Magnus… few Warlocks made it to a similar position. He was, after all, the High Warlock of Brooklyn. Even as a child, he might have been different, special. Much more powerful than most other Warlocks would ever be. Before he’d made his mind up about what to say, he saw Magnus hadn’t finished. So Alec kept his mouth shut.

 

“I never wanted you to see this,” Magnus grimaced and pressed his lips together, hard, “terrible, ugly side of me…” Throughout the whole conversation, the Warlock had barely looked at Alec. He sniffed, put a hand to his nose. “… of my past…”

 

Hearing this, Alec had to avert his eyes for a second.

Too much.

He couldn’t stand to see Magnus in so much pain. Magnus, who managed to compliment himself three times as much as he complimented any other person, including Alec – on a regular basis. Magnus, who was able to take pretty much anything with humor. _Magnus_. The person who showed Alec that to love and to be loved didn’t have to be unrequited, didn’t have to go hand in hand with guilt and shame – a person with skill and magic so potent, so strong, so able…

He also couldn’t wrap his head around how there was a part of Magnus which believed he was a… a monster. An abomination. A murderer. But Alec had seen and heard enough to know how strong this part of Magnus must be. How lonely and lost it was. He had no clue what to do. He put a hand on the Warlock’s calf and moved it up to his upper thigh, desperately wanting to establish some sort of contact. He wanted Magnus to physically feel he was there, wanted him to share his warmth, his strength. Both was in him, somewhere. He’d just have to find it. Channel it.

 

“Hey,” Alec said and raised his eyes back up again. Magnus’s gaze, however, travelled over Alec’s shirt. After seconds that felt like minutes, when their eyes finally met, Alec was able to take in just how bloodshot and red his boyfriend’s eyes were. He saw that Magnus’s cheek bones were accentuated by this unwelcome shimmer only sadness, despair and grief were accompanied by. He couldn’t stand it. None of it. Instinctively he reached out and did the one thing Magnus had done so often lately, he took hold of the other’s face. He covered and wiped away the tears with his palm. How fragile Magnus’s head looked in his hands, how open his stare was – he’d never seen him that way before. Never before had he seen Magnus so defeated or so vulnerable.

So tired.

But still, he looked oddly beautiful. There was, Alec saw, insecurity and fear in Magnus’s face. And incredulousness. It was the dubious, perplex way in which Magnus rested his head against Alec’s palm. As if he was wondering whether Alec was really here. Alec’s heart compressed painfully. This was the same person who’d waste no time in telling literally anyone how irresistible and compelling he (thought he) was. _Dashingly cute_. With heartfelt conviction and absolute sincerity Alec said:

 

“There is nothing ugly about you.”

 

Magnus felt his lips tremble at the sound of Alec’s words. The pressure the small of his face put to Alec’s hand increased. He blinked as his eyes threatened to fill with water again. He was struggling to understand and process what Alexander had said. Helpless with emotion, the corners of his mouth twitched. He had no control whatsoever over his face. He stared at Alec who, the whole time, kept his eyes glues on him. Alec, who still sat here in front of him, here with him, who would still touch him, hold him. Who looked at him without disgust.

Who pulled him close.

Who pressed his chest into his own in this one way that was without compare: intuitive, blunt, unthought-through, genuine. He lay down his head on Alexander’s shoulder and quietly carried on sobbing.

For a long while, Alec literally pressed Magnus into his arms. Tight. He could feel how his shoulder got soaked where Magnus rested his head and held him even tighter. His head was spinning. Was there anything he could say or do that Magnus or anybody else hadn’t said or done yet? Wasn’t it pointless to say anything? No. He wasn’t allowed to think that way. He must try.

Carefully, he let go. Magnus sank back in the chair. Alec shifted to sit on his butt.

 

“I’m glad and relieved you finally told me. No wonder you’re so upset. And I feel terrible, Magnus. I still can’t forgive myself that I haven’t recognized you when you were caught in Valentine's body… Thank you for telling me, really. But… I don’t know what to say, I am so shocked,” Alec said. “That’s heavy stuff.”

“I know. I understand. There’s no excuse.”

“No, there isn’t. I mean, I won’t say I don’t understand that they were in shock and that they were afraid. I love my mother to bits, but I was afraid of her all the time when I was a child… I even can imagine that your mother – maybe she didn’t know better – felt she was to blame. Just think of what you said yesterday. It’s not their fault that they don’t understand. Maybe she thought she ruined her baby boy’s life. Her one and only, her boy… burdened with something, marked in a way she never wanted, but had no means of undoing. She bore a child so much closer to the dangers and temptations of hell than other children are. To her, you both practically stood with one leg _in_ hell. And she thought it was her fault, because she’d been tricked. Because she let herself be tricked. I mean, you’re such a strong person, Magnus. But maybe she didn’t think she was. Maybe she just wasn't? Maybe she couldn’t accept it. Couldn’t live with what she’d done… but in the sense of ‘what she’d done to you’. Maybe she was afraid of her husband? Of what the others would do to her – to both of you – once they found out? I think she thought she was the origin of your misery. She felt she damned you. I mean, I can’t know. I’m just saying: I don’t think she did it because she didn’t love you. You told me she read to you every night, told you stories. She must have loved you before she knew. And surely, part of her still did after she knew. I think. I don’t know how she couldn’t have. But she was afraid, too. And, Magnus, you must have seen stuff like that much more often throughout your life than I have. You and I both know that love rarely ever is enough.” Alec swallowed. “But it’s no excuse. She left you alone…”

Magnus stared at Alec. What was he talking about?

“But your stepfather… Magnus.” Alec looked up. “Those were different times, of course. But… I am gay, you know. Of course you know,” Alec said hastily, “What I mean is: I am out, now. I won’t ever have children, none of my own, my blood, at least. I mean, it’s really not likely… But when I think about it. Today I wouldn’t care if my child, my son and I shared the same blood. I never cared about how Jace and I didn’t. There was no difference. If anything, we were closer because of that. Because we wanted to be… For all this man knew up to that point, you were his son. How could his feelings change so quickly? Was it in the heat of the moment? Was it because, generally, he was an angry man?”

Magnus shrugged. “I… I don’t know about that... don't remember much more,” he said. He almost stammered.

Alec nodded. “I mean, I don’t know how he could ever… He must have felt betrayed. Surely, he would have taken it out on your mother. Surely, back then, they would’ve done something to her. But she’d forestalled that already. Which means he must have felt twice as betrayed. He had nobody else to take his wrath and hurt out on. You were there, it was easy to blame you, you were susceptible and vulnerable. Also you were illegitimate. I’m not a fan of this sort of thinking, but it is quite close to how some Shadowhunters still think. When we thought Jace was Valentine’s son, my mother – who always loved Jace like her own flesh and blood – wanted me to turn my back on him. I told her he was my parabatai, that he was closer than family. That I had no idea what would happen to him or me if we left each other behind. She told me to cut out the cancer before it could spread.” Alec’s tone was bitter. “So, you see, I don’t think the same way. Not anymore. I never gave up on Jace. Not really. And I would never give up on you. I know that what your stepfather did was wrong. So do you, Magnus. Please…” Alec paused. “It’s perverse. There’s no excuse. But again, he had no idea. Neither had you, Magnus. What did you know about the world? You knew your parents, you became familiar with your own, awakening powers. So, okay, you knew that something about you must be different. But other than that? You’d only just discovered your mother’s dead body. Your father was screaming at you, threatening you. You were scared for your life, you _could not_ understand. I mean, I notice every other month or so how Max’s way to think changes… how his brain develops. You were still a small boy, no matter what you say about being in control of your powers. You acted the way any kid with such powers would have. Those things he said… you… you must not believe them true… you must not blame yourself for doing what you did. _I could never blame you, Magnus_. And you will, I am so, so sorry, you will have to wait,” Alec gasped for breath, “a, um, very long time until you can finally ask your mother all those questions you have. If it's possible at all. Like, it's not something we can know for sure. But, on the other hand, we also cannot know for sure if what your stepfather said was true.”

 

He ruffled through his hair. He was positive he’d never said so much in one go in his whole life. No wonder why. He kind of felt he really should stop. But he found there was more to say.

 

“For the time being you must accept and understand that you were but a child. A boy. Don’t tell yourself it was more than self-defence now that you’re an adult just because you’ve learnt that Warlocks must be evil because of their blood. And if that’s not why you’re so hard on yourself, if it’s because you think there is so much evil in you… Come on. He would’ve hunted you down. Tortured you, killed you. He probably would’ve burnt _you_ if you hadn’t burnt him first.” Alec sighed. “Magnus,” he said, shaking his head, “I won’t lie. Your story is awful. Mostly, the parents of Warlocks manage somehow. Nothing I say could change that... that yours didn’t. I’m sorry. It’s useless, but I’m here. I am here.”

 

Magnus was still crying.

 

“Listen,” Alec said. “I’ve thought about our fixation on blood before. Shadowhunters have Angel blood. Downworlders have Demon blood. If blood is all we are, if there was nothing we could do, why… I mean, why did Jace act so differently when we all _thought_ he had Demon blood? He left, he joined Valentine. He even saved Valentine’s life. Okay, maybe only someone with Angel blood would do that... but I wouldn't have, and I, presumably, have Angel blood in me somewhere... Anyway, it was all because he, Jace I mean, – probably _we_ – thought ‘he has Demon blood, he must be damned’. That’s a flawed logic. Because all the time we thought it true, it wasn’t. The contrary was. He has pure angelic blood, Magnus. And that doesn’t undo anything bad he did. He doesn’t speak much about it, but, Magnus, he must have done terrible things. I know my parabatai. I share his feelings.”

 

Alec reached out and took hold of Magnus’s hands. He tugged at them. Magnus obliged and slid to the floor. Alec shuffled aside so they could both sit comfortably. He didn’t let go of the Warlock’s hands.

 

“Or why are some Shadowhunters so cruel? Why are some Angels? Who knows. Demons are evil, that is true. But the higher, the greater the Demon… I mean, I don’t know. Maybe it's all rubbish. Clary has Angel blood, too. Clary tried to resurrect her mother with black magic. Something almost anyone would have done. We would do anything, sometimes. I went with her… You know the story.”

 

It was a painful memory for Alec. He still felt he was to blame for Jocelyn's death.

 

“And, Magnus. Look at Isabelle and Max. Look at how different we are - apart from those similarities we actually do share. The same blood is flowing through our veins. And yet it cannot mean we are _one_ certain way. Isabelle likes to take risks. I am, uhm, uptight. I am gay. Max is wilder and brighter than either of us. And, you know, neither my mom nor my dad are gay. It cannot all be in our blood. Blood is a substance. It changes the mixture, but as long as there are human roots involved, it is only one component of many. Why would it be predominant? Why would it decide absolutely everything? It gives us abilities, yes. But what we do with those – that depends on so much more. You’re so much more than your blood, Magnus. You have a singular soul. You care. You take care of others. You,” Alec swallowed with difficulty, “you’re so _you_ that you made me change my whole life, made me fall for you. I refuse to believe that your soul – any soul –  is dependent solely on a substance. You… What you did was something many children with your powers would have done in that moment. I’m sure of it. We call mundanes mundanes because someone once decided we should do so. There is no inherent reason. We call Downworlders Downworlders because a portion of their blood originates from demonic realms, or from hell. And yet, it’s the same with humans, with us. We’re human, too. So are you. We just don’t have your powers. We’re not immortal. Well, as Nephilim we have, thanks to our Angel blood, different skills… what I mean is… I mean… there is a difference, but it’s not by default in how cruel we are. It’s not in what we’re capable of. Not necessarily. It always depends on the individual… on the situation… no matter what you are –”

 

Alec didn’t know how to finish. He was rambling. Almost compulsively, he kneaded one of Magnus’s hands with his thumbs.

 

“Alexander.”

“I’m not sure what else to say. They are... were... your parents. I didn’t mean to be bold or presumptuous or anything… I –. I got you something, Magnus.” Alec suddenly remembered. He felt worn-out and embarrassed. So he jumped up and almost ran to where he’d left his bag. He came back and sat cross-legged next to Magnus. He put the gift in his lap. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t even get round to wrapping it.” He held it out to the Warlock.

 

That very same Warlock thought he could feel the earth turning. He’d asked himself whether he was hallucinating. Whether he’d finally fallen asleep without being greeted by another nightmare. But the unpleasant crinkle that caused the hairs in his neck to raise up must be real. He took the bag from Alexander’s hands and immediately recognized and identified the familiar shape. He reached into it and drew out the book. He gaped at it. He gaped at Alec. His hands were shaking. “No…” He whispered. In wonder, he saw water drops fall down on the young, well-known wizard with the tasteless glasses. He felt his face start to twitch and tremble again. He closed his eyes. The motion sent off another two small rivers. He could feel them follow the same path all the others had taken. His chest was convulsing. He needed air. But his throat was swollen shut. He felt his ribcage vibrate and spasm.

Alec felt utterly helpless and was out of his depth. He’d hoped to bring Magnus a little joy. Instead, he saw how the Warlock clutched at the book, knuckles white. Was he hyperventilating?

 

“Magnus, I’m sorry,” he said, desperate. “Please, try to calm down. Please. You must breathe. Magnus!”

 

Alec took hold of the Warlock’s chin. “Breathe,” he ordered. “Now.”

 

Both drew in air. Alec sharply. Magnus the way Max used to when he’d finally finished sobbing after one of his (rare) rage meltdowns. Alec got up and grabbed the glass Magnus had left on the liquor table. He tramped to the sink with it, was about to empty it out, changed his mind and downed the leftover liquid at once, grimaced with disgust (it was hard alcohol), and refilled the glass with nothing but tap water. Then he stomped back.

 

“Drink this,” he said. Magnus complied without complaining. Alec repeated the procedure. When he made a move to ‘buy’ a third round, Magnus told him to stop, please, in a low, throaty voice. Alec could hear that Magnus’s nose was clogged.

“It’s all right,” he said. “This time, it’s going to be for me.” He heard Magnus say something.

“I’m sorry.” Alec said from the kitchen, “but you have to speak up a little.”

“Thank you, Alexander.”

 

Alec, whose heart was still beating a samba, frowned. “You’re welcome?” He rejoined Magnus who’d fallen back, stretched out and now lay flat on his carpet. He took note of how the Warlock, too, was still breathing heavily. Alec didn't think their conversation was altogether over. But he understood that, for the moment, it was. The Harry Potter book lay right next to him. Alec reached out for it and leaned against the blue chair. He moved his legs so that they touched Magnus’s. He bit his lip.

 

“Did I get the right one?” he asked. Magnus confirmed that, yes, he had gotten the right one and, exhausted closed his eyes. Everything Alexander had just said and done had stormed his brain, his heart. Almost violently. Magnus hadn't thought Alexander would... he just hadn't thought he would... stay? He'd thought that he'd leave. That the picture Alexander had of him was so different that he'd be unable to reconcile it with the inhumane cruelty that Magnus hosted somewhere within him, a cruelty Magnus did his best to control.

Alec opened the book. He searched the wall for the clock. “And have you had anything solid besides coffee and alcohol today,” he wanted to know. Magnus shook his head. “The Dark Lord Ascending,” Alec silently read and immediately thought of Valentine. And he immediately wanted to throw up, but since he’d not eaten anything all day either, it would have been futile. He didn’t have much time left. They were going to do it between 11 and 12 pm. Izzy would text him.

 

“Alidoro’s? Later? You could portal us there. If you want. You must eat.”

Magnus nodded. “Okay,” he said.

 

And then Alec surprised himself. He skimmed a few pages back, namely to the dedication, and started to read out loud:

 

_The dedication of this book is split seven ways: to Neil, to Jessica, to David, to Kenzie, to Di, to Anne, and to you, if you have stuck with Harry until the very end._

 

His voice broke with awkwardness, he had to clear his throat. He wasn’t used to speaking so clearly. He dared to take a glance at Magnus. He didn’t know whether the other’s cheeks were still wet from before, or whether he’d started crying again. Alec almost dislocated something as he turned around to grab a cushion. He leaned forward and lifted Magnus’s head.

 

“There you go,” he said, shoving the cushion in place. He felt so stupid doing it, but also not. He hesitated. Would Magnus like him to kiss him? He wasn’t sure.

“Although,” he added, “I’m sorry, if you want to join me for dinner, we don’t have a lot of time. Izzy expects me to be ready from 10 onwards… for the transferal. And I still need to get in touch with Catarina Loss.”

“No need,” Magnus protested. His voice had recovered. “I’m coming.”

“Magnus,” Alec resumed his former position. “You don’t have to. You have every right –”

“To deliver this… this… _person_ straight to the Clave.”

Alec breathed out. “It’s your decision,” he said. He set an alarm. “In that case, let’s leave in half an hour.”

“Alexander,” Magnus said, shyly, drained, “will you continue? Please…”

Alec exhaled again. “That's the plan,” he answered.

 

_Chapter one: The Dark Lord Ascending._

Alec tried to pause at the right places.

_The two men appeared out of nowhere, a few yards apart in the narrow, moonlit lane. For a second they stood quite still, wands directed at each other’s chests; then, recognising each other, they stowed their wands beneath their cloaks and started walking briskly in the same direction. ‘News?’ asked the taller of the two. ‘The best,’ replied Severus Snape..._

Alec did _his best_ to watch over Magnus as he read. But he didn’t dare to stop again until his alarm went off. He dearly hoped Magnus had drifted off at least a little bit, if only for five minutes. When the alarm sounded, Magnus lifted himself up fast. Alec placed the book on the armchair behind him and got to his feet. He still wasn’t sure what to do. When he was about to slip into his jacket, he felt a pair of muscular arms curl around his midriff from behind. He put his hands over Magnus’s and let his head fall back. He felt there were tears in his eyes, too. But he swallowed them away. Magnus’s warm breath felt humid against his skin.

 He couldn’t supress a puff when Magnus kissed his neck. Neither of them needed to say what they felt.

 

“We need to eat.”

“You’re right.”

 

Magnus got ready just as fast. They portalled to Soho. When Izzy’s message finally came through, Alec said apologetically: “I’m sorry we couldn’t go to your Soho tonight. I promise, forbearance is not acquittance.”

The Warlock looked a bit better, but they hadn’t spoken much. It was the first time that, tonight, Magnus’s expression was one that resembled a smile rather than sadness. Alec’s heart jumped a little in his chest. “I’ll take you up on that, Alexander,” he replied. “We need to go, right?” he said.

“Yes,” Alec confirmed. “I’m glad when this is over. You have no idea.”

“But Alec,” Magnus huffed as he created the portal, “I do.”

When Alec wanted to step into it, Magnus, at long last, captured his arms. He pulled him close. Alec’s chest tightened. He leaned down and crushed their mouths together. Like last night, Magnus maneuvered them through the portal as they kissed. Like last night, Alec felt queasy, weak in the knees.

“Let’s make it a thing,” he murmured against the Warlock’s lips when they arrived at the corner they usually portalled to when they wanted to get to the Institute.

“Interesting,” Magnus said.

Alec shut his eyes, pressed their lips together and felt how the muscles in his face light up with a small grin. He drew Magnus in for a hug. When Magnus tried to free himself, "You cannot want to be late, Alexander" Alec locked him in tighter. He found there was time enough to wait until Magnus's breathing rate seemed halfway okay, until he'd - they'd - calmed down as much as possible. Only then Alec agreed and said:

“Let’s get this over and done with.”

 

*-*-*-*

 

He and Magnus exchanged a look. They could hear them.

Isabelle came into the room first. Valentine followed after. Then the other guards joined. Alec raised his voice:

 

“Valentine Morgenstern. By order of the Clave you’re hereby remanded to the guard in Idris.”

 

His sister nodded at Magnus. Although Alec didn’t take his eyes off Valentine, he could see in the corners of his eyes that Magnus was opening the portal.

 

Valentine possessed the indecency to speak: “I may be in a cell, but at least I’ll be in Alicante.” He regarded Magnus with utmost disdain and added spitefully: “Where the air doesn’t reek of Downworlders.”

Magnus closed his eyes, then looked at Alec. “Fuck you,” Alec thought. “Get him out of here,” he said resolutely and to no one in particular. Jace and Isabelle locked eyes. They nodded at each other.

In less than a minute, everyone but Magnus and Alec was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot?
> 
> What's that?
> 
> There is no plot...

By the Angel.

Alec puffed up his cheeks and looked at the floor. A weight was falling off his shoulders while the portal was folding in on itself; now they’d have to wait until his siblings were sent back. But Valentine would stay in Idris. He wasn’t his responsibility any longer. Finally. It was one of those rare moments when even Alec Lightwood was in the odd mood to have a toast.

A toast to ridding themselves off Valentine.

 

“He’s… gone. All those guards… gone, too.” Magnus slowly and softly said, out of nowhere. “So are your sister and Jace… And nobody else is coming down here…”

 

His face sported an openly indignant expression which was only understandable given how Valentine had bid them, especially him, farewell. But it wasn’t like he’d not meant to make a swipe at Alec, too. For, surely, he’d put two and two together and had inferred what was going on between Magnus and Alec. Somehow he didn’t believe Valentine cared too much about homosexuality. He thought it was much more likely that he condemned that a Shadowhunter – one bearing the Lightwood name even – deigned to become involved with a Warlock. It pissed him off how he considered his mother’s and Valentine’s line of thought to be so similar. But, whereas Maryse seemed to come around and Alec was inclined to forgive her simply because he loved her and he knew she loved him, there was no love lost between him and Valentine. The longer he thought about it, the angrier he got. What ‘love’ he had for Valentine felt like a heartburn: sharp and acidic. Frankly, Alec was surprised Clary’s father had had it in him to repulse and disgust him even more than before. That man was toxic. Revolting.  

Nevertheless, Magnus’s statement was, of course, correct, but what was it good for? Not many Shadowhunters had the necessary security clearance to come down here, and on this day in particular most wouldn’t be allowed to order the elevator to go downwards at all… thanks to the wards of the cell block. Thing was: his boyfriend sounded strange. This was not fatigue speaking. It was something else. It sounded like resolution. And that, in combination with the expression he wore and what lay behind them, was unsettling.

And so, not without an insecure hint of suspicion, Alec watched as Magnus crossed the hall to stand before the very glass panel behind which Valentine had been locked up. Magnus put a palm to the glass. Was he reminiscing in the oh-so-happy past times, Alec wondered sourly. Was he going to break it? Wreck that cell? It was quite hard to tell what he was up to. Alec wouldn’t blame him either way. He, too, would like it to be thoroughly disinfected. Nope, he wasn’t exactly fond of it either. So why not smash it to bits?

Magnus contemplated what was behind the glass. He looked at the sober ‘furnishing’ of the cell. That horrible chair. The torture… the pain. Unwanted memories were lurking beneath that old blanket and it was likely that the mattress still accommodated some of his decaying sweat. He’d had enough of that. Time to turn his back.

Crossing his arms, he moved back around to face Alexander. And only Alexander. Nobody else was here. Compared to how the last time that they’d been alone down here had been, it surprised him how, in this setup, Alexander could still be such a pleasant sight. The most pleasant. He allowed that thought to linger and leaned back against the wall, put a foot to it.

 

“Not that I’d know.” Alec answered truthfully and frowned.

 

The way Magnus was staring him up and down definitely made him anxious. He was eager to leave this place.

 

“Notwithstanding that we haven’t exactly got a schedule for when to confine somebody. Why?” His lips dabbled with a smile and failed. Now that they were the only ones left, Alec couldn’t shake the memory of the twisted common experience they’d shared in there, behind that glass. He crossed his arms and waited – instead of trying to force his lips to curl into a smile.

 

Magnus quirked an eyebrow. He answered nothing. He felt they’d talked enough. Especially Alexander. As much as he dreaded the mere idea of it, he would have to address the topic of his mother and stepfather again some other time. He needed Alexander to know more, see things a little less idealistically, but not right now. Because right now he found that, after all that had been said and done today, for the moment there was nothing else for him… them… to say. He kept convincing himself that Alexander hadn’t left. That there was no repulsion in his features. So he but looked at him. Took him in. Alexander was very young and, it hit him again, unspoilt. It was not a bad thing he had ideals. Or that he had a good heart. Certainly not that he had a good heart. And yet, he was only just starting out. There were way too many things Magnus felt ready to do for him, dangerously many.

Or to him.

Because Alec was outrageously handsome, too.

Magnus, on the other side, was – sadly – not only outrageously handsome, but also a handful. Four hundred years of baggage, nearing five. Magnus didn’t exactly like the Institute’s cell block. He’d witnessed a lot of Shadowhunter business going on in here throughout the years besides having had the doubtful honor to feature in one of their latest performances.

Under his eyes, the young Lightwood grew nervous. What was he thinking about? Was Alexander seeing it, too? How he’d shoved Magnus against that wall, yes, that one back there, how he’d stared at him out of hateful, uncertain eyes? What about redeeming himself in a _nice_ way? Right here, right now…

Although there was nothing to redeem. Horrifying as it may have been, honestly, Magnus didn’t lay the blame for anything that had happened on Alexander. Anyone knew Valentine went to great lengths to get what he wanted. It might as well have been him putting up an act. And Alexander felt guilty anyways. Magnus knew that and didn’t want to feed fuel to that fire. His insomnia was burden enough for them both. Which was exactly why he forced the image of Valentine, the words he’d said and the idea of being stuck in his body out of his mind again. He took the visual memory and tried to empty it, discard the bad emotions. And, again, it surprised him how easy Alec’s presence made that.

To be fair, it hadn’t really worked before, not for long. Maybe it wouldn’t work for long this time either. But it certainly worked at this very moment.

He cocked his head to the side. He narrowed his eyes. Yes, he realized. Alexander was nervous. Probably for the wrong reasons. It was time to reclaim some personal space. There was nothing Magnus wanted more, except, maybe, to sleep.

He was wondering what was going on and yet there was something in Magnus’s countenance that silenced Alec’s mouth. Alec bobbed up and down on his toes, looked at the floor for a moment. He found he couldn’t bear that for very long until he had to allow his eyes to travel back up. Once more, he took in Magnus’s pose. The Warlock seemed calmer now that the imminent danger was banned. “Baned,” his useful mind threw at him.

What the hell.

Alec made a face.

Or maybe it was because he’d finally been able to confide in him? Perhaps both. But wasn’t it kind of foolish to stay in the cell block? The others wouldn’t be coming back for a while. They’d certainly call his cell phone (which had remained silent so far) or the office soon, so he probably needed to go upstairs and check. Yes. They might as well go upstairs to the office or his room or even to Magnus’s lair. Although, Alec reminded himself, he had to stay in the Institute just in case… with so many prime Shadowhunters gone. But what was it Magnus had in mind? Because…

Something in the air told him that they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Without a warning, the Warlock shrugged out of his jacket. Alec’s sceptical gaze followed it as it fell to the floor. Before he could even formulate any question at all in his head, Magnus gestured for him to be quiet. By now Alec’s pulse was racing. “Where is this going,” he wondered. He had a hunch. He loosened his arms. Made a half-hearted fist. He felt dangerously close to stepping out his comfort zone already.

But here they were again. As if by (Magnus’s) command, his head was flooded with those unbidden, intrusive thoughts. Like the ones he’d had this morning. Like the ones he had all the time. Shoving Magnus down on the sofa. Being cornered in the shower. Being pressed against a wall in Soho. Against any wall. Or Magnus straddling him on the bathroom floor. They were harassing him at the most inappropriate times. “Oh God,” Alec thought. The mirror in Magnus’s bathroom. It covered the whole…

 

“Ceiling,” he suddenly stammered. For no reason. He choked a little on his saliva. Magnus merely shook his head in incomprehension and put his foot back on the floor.

“In your bathroom,” Alec said. He felt feverish. Excellent.

“You think there is a Seelie in my bathroom?” Anew, Magnus raised an eyebrow.

“Ceiling,” Alec coughed. “Never mind. Don’t ask.”

 

A muscle in the Warlock’s face twitched. Alec was shook how much this tiny glimpse of boyish joy in Magnus’s face got to him. He felt his cheeks and ears increasingly heat up. He scratched his neck and made a semi-apologetic gesture with his head. For Magnus, as was obvious from the spark in the Warlock’s eyes, the penny had dropped. Lithely he nodded once at Alec’s words and added “also, sometimes, he’s cute when he’s awkward” to his list.

Then, still lithely but with a lot more flamboyance than before, he proceeded to nod at Alec’s upper body. Completely focused on Magnus’s face, one of Alec’s hands automatically found its way to his chest. There was nothing there apart from a tedious feeling of disquiet. Okay. He felt uncomfortable. A little. A lot. A little. Whatever. In place of speaking, Magnus mimicked Alexander’s movement. Neither shirt had buttons, but Magnus pretended to undo them regardless. It was a shame unauthorized Warlock magic didn’t work here. His move would’ve looked so much more… sensual… persuasive… revealing actual skin. When he got to the hem, he nodded at Alexander again. The young man seemed paralyzed.

There were three things Magnus imagined (hoped) Alec wanted right now. First and foremost, he wanted Magnus to take off his shirt. Second, he wanted to run. Third, he desperately wanted to not give a damn, because, firstly, nobody could come down here anyways and he wanted Magnus to take off that shirt. He was curious to find out which scenario would win.

Magnus wound a few inches of the soft fabric round his fingers to give Alec something to look at and closed his eyes for a second. He saw it all play out quite clearly.

How Alec was chewing at the insides of his mouth. Surprisingly, his fingers wouldn’t tremble when Alec pulled his arms out of his jacket and hooked his hands under his shirt. Of course, he wouldn’t make a show of it, but in Alexander’s case for Magnus no show was show enough. Enough to have to restrain himself. Silently, he willed himself to stay where he was.

In one swift motion, the Warlock lifted his shirt over his head.

Apparently, Alexander had made his decision. Now that he’d pushed both jacket and shirt off his shoulders, he was panting a little.

He gave in, rushed forward. The way he often did. Almost with force, he crushed Magnus’s body against the cold glass.

At least that was what Magnus would have hoped for. _It would have felt so good._

 

“Magnus, what are you doing?!” Magnus’s eyes fluttered open. Alec was standing in front of him, all right. But why was he holding out Magnus’s shirt and waggling his jacket at him? What did he look so serious for? What else was there to worry about?

“Magnus, you’re aware there are cameras all over this place?” Alec lowered his voice. “Put this back on. I’m sorry. You must be exhausted. Your lack of sleep and recent use of magic leaves you… in an unbalanced state. It’s my fault, too.”

 

Alec would’ve liked to add that, despite all, his mind was goddamn alive with the same thoughts. How couldn’t it be? It were the heaviness of the day and Magnus’s confessions that weighed down his tongue (that and how Magnus had just begun to mindfuck him). He still wasn’t really sure whether or not Magnus was in a good enough condition to be sure about what he wanted just yet. And since he didn’t want to give cause for offence by pointing that out, he quietly hoped the moment would pass. That… things… would cool down. There was disappointment in how Magnus looked at him. Alec felt terribly contrite for having turned his partner down. He felt how Magnus started trembling the very second they touched when he put the Warlock’s jacket round his shoulders. Magnus was yearning for physical contact as much as Alec – he had to admit it – was itching to get his fingers on him.

Magnus didn’t care about the shirt but obliged and put the jacket back on. Trying not to give away his feelings he avoided Alexander’s eyes and scanned the room. It was true. He’d blocked out that bit a little more successfully than the rest it seemed. Once you focused on them, they were hard to miss; they were in pretty much every corner.

 

“It’s no use. They’re too many. And, anyways, it isn’t the best place, don’t you think. Or the best time.” Alec sounded regretful – but also relieved.

 

Magnus bit his upper lip at Alec’s words. It rarely ever was and he didn’t mind. They could always erase the recording. Or steal it and put it by for rainy days. But Alec cared. Which he understood. So he gave Alec a subdued nod. He hated to agree with Alexander on this, but it was true that he was long past the point where fatigue had him in twistedly high spirits. He felt raw, mostly. His skin felt thin and easily excitable. He couldn’t change that he still longed for a moment of peace, a moment of _good_ excitement. It was one of the few things he wasn’t in doubt about. Every fiber in this body, every inch of his skin, ever nerve he had was longing for those few heartbeats of pure pleasure. He’d been a fool for permitting himself to act on it. Why would Alexander want to sleep with him now? Here? At all? He should have known better.

Magnus gave a start when a couple of the nerves he’d just been pondering forwarded that there was actually something – rather someone – seizing his arm. Then he realized it was Alexander (“Who else, idiot.”). It was a hesitant touch. But hesitant meaning careful; careful as in caring, not put off. Charged with emotion, he glanced back up at Alec. He was tired of varying between extremes. He was desperate for catharsis.

Peace.

 

“Let’s go,” Alec said, kneading an unconscious pattern into his biceps. Its rhythm spread like wildfire through his body. He became absorbed by it. He felt it echoing and re-echoing _everywhere_. “Please come,” Alexander added and shyly tugged at Magnus’s arm. The Warlock bowed his head. Alright. Simply not the right time and place then, eh.

 

*-*-*-*

 

Alec had been about to push the button on the elevator when, all of a sudden, he stopped. He shook his head and took a deep breath. Before he knew it, he’d fished out the Stele and drawn what looked like a small eye on the back of his left hand. Magnus recognized that rune. Alec shoved the Stele back into his pockets and then, somewhat out of nowhere, pushed Magnus to the side. Hard. Magnus knew impulsive Alexander. He _liked_ impulsive Alexander. By all means, what had his life been like without him?

Relieved and _so_ up for what was going to come, the Warlock moaned straightaway. He hadn’t known there was a hidden passage leading to a staircase. Although it made sense. There had been a time when elevators didn't exist, and the Shadowhunters of this Institute had probably kept a set of secret stairs just in case. Who’d glamoured that door, though? Who'd concealed this staircase? Who knew, maybe it had even been him. Some things weren’t really worth remembering. Like staircases in Institutes. Not when one was busy leading a life being pushed into dark, indecent corners by attractive young men like Alexander Lightwood. But he’d have to search his mind. If he’d forgotten about more secret passageways, it might be best to recover that knowledge.

There was no light in this recess. Not that it mattered; they were both able to see.

And now it was Alec’s turn to nod at Magnus’s jacket. Magnus lost no time to accommodate Alec’s request. He should’ve never bothered to put it back on, really. Let people stare. Many Warlocks needed to bare more skin to channel their magic than just a set of palms. But it was a fabulous jacket. And, he reminded himself, he had a self-imposed obligation to look fabulous.

Alec still suppressed the impulse to ask Magnus whether he was actually, truly, one hundred percent sure this was what he wanted. To Alec, it somehow seemed as wrong to go for sex now as it would feel good. He was trying to figure out a compromise. He didn’t like to think he was taking advantage of Magnus, despite the stares and moans, despite Magnus’s bare, golden chest that was so warm to the touch. Maybe because of those things? His thoughts repeated themselves. And still, on the other hand, he didn’t want to insult Magnus or give him the wrong ideas. He wanted to trust his gut. And his gut didn’t just want Magnus, it wanted to put Magnus’s needs before Alec’s own.

Alec had come to know the Warlock’s body language.

Going by it, Magnus’s intentions remained quite clear. And he must also know his behaviors wouldn’t leave Alec unaffected. He always knew that. He usually used this knowledge to his advantage. Just like when he’d come into the bathroom too early yesterday evening. On purpose. He got a kick out of challenging Alec’s boundaries.

So did Alec. If he didn’t, he was sure Magnus wouldn’t do it. But he did. Which was, at least sometimes, a nuisance. Mostly it was great.

In the immediate days after their first time together, Magnus had made a (sort of unnecessary and very mean) nonchalant joke. A joke about how it was common knowledge that young people were exceedingly excitable.

 

“Especially,” Magnus had said this grinning the self-complacent grin he shared with Jace, “young men like… oh… you know, certain former virgin Shadowhunters who’ve not had much experience… yet.”

 

Since Alec, a (rather: the) former  _virgin Shadowhunter_ , had been thinking about sex all day that day, had only just stormed the apartment, and had basically thrown himself into Magnus’s arms, that joke had made him feel entirely exposed. It had killed off the desire he’d been fighting the whole day in less than a minute. So unpleasantly caught by surprise, it vanished into thin air and the only thing Alec had wanted to do was push Magnus off him immediately.

It had hurt.

Well, at least until his hand had got taken and been lead to discover the noticeable bulge that was Magnus’s crotch.

 

“But my dear Alexander. You may be able to tell why, the older I got, the more I found common knowledge to be utter nonsense. It’s useless…” Magnus’s grin had intensified. Not that Alec had thought that was possible. “Therefore,” Magnus had continued, “fuck common knowledge.” The Warlock had raised himself on tiptoes to whisper, rather loudly, into his ear. “Or, more precisely, _me_. Asap.” Upon processing Magnus’s concessions, Alec’s initial shock had changed back into what it had been before. They’d laughed and soon continued where they’d left off.

 

Magnus’s eyes were pleading him to continue now, too. They were together, Alec thought. A couple. Was there ever anything wrong with sleeping with your partner when you both wanted to? To crave and search for the comfort it could give? “No,” he’d decided. There was nothing wrong at all with craving intimacy during stressful times. Surely, this part of a relationship couldn’t just be meant for happy days. 

Alec reached out to rake his fingers through Magnus’s hair.

 

“I love you,” he said and stroked along Magnus’s eyebrows. They felt funny. Sturdy and soft. “Although we could always go to my bedroom,” he added. “And I hope you’re not angry with me for shunning the CCTV. I’m sure we’re off the picture here, but the stairs are being recorded. We need to tread carefully. I hope you understand that that’s why… you know.”

 

Magnus snorted, but his lips twitched. “There’s no need to go elsewhere as far as I’m concerned,” he said. Alec figured Magnus wanted to stop talking. He could tell from how his eyes were glued to his lips. He’d told Alec a few times that he liked his lips.

 

He slowly drove the Warlock against the wall. There wasn’t much space and there was nothing else but the cold stone for Magnus to support himself against. He tried to sense what Magnus wanted. What his boyfriend needed, Alec thought, was to feel good in his skin. Loved. So, he probably wanted to be made love to. Sincerely.

Equally engrossed in thought about lips, he took his boyfriend’s face into both his hands and kissed Magnus for the longest time. It was for himself, mostly. It was meant to cast out whatever it was that kept holding him back. He needed to make sure, needed to be certain. Needed to give them both more time. Clear their heads and reencounter the passion a simple kiss could offer. Allow what could be a chaste interaction to become more, much more. Let it prime the body. Soon the already almost familiar tugging at his insides started. He shuddered. The blood, he could feel, was spiralling downwards. It was magical how some of the most promising promises were given with lips, yet made without words.

Tonight, Magnus felt slightly different to him. At first, he was confused. It was like as if something was missing. He pressed his lips down slightly harder, captured Magnus’s head a little more forcefully. Magnus appeared kind of passive, but that wasn’t it. He was letting himself be immersed (at least that was what he called it). That part Alec understood; depending on moods or daily form, it had happened before. It had become something Magnus enjoyed… ever since that first night when his glamour had forsaken him. Straightaway, Alec had noticed that, at first, it had continued to bother Magnus. That had been why, with emphasis, he’d made it clear that it didn’t bother him at all. That it was beautiful. Desirable. That he wouldn’t have it any other way.

It had since become apparent that Magnus was much better at it than he was. He’d guessed that that was because Alec wasn’t Magnus’s first lover. He’d assumed that, normally, Magnus had rarely ever felt he had to hide this part of himself during sex. It would have been a sobering thought that, most likely, much of Magnus’s initial wish to control himself had resulted from him trying to avoid rejection and judgement from not so much Alec, but a Shadowhunter. But Magnus, seemingly reading Alec’s mind, had denied it was because of that. According to him, it was because of how much Alexander meant to him; that his eyes pierced more sharply, his words resonated more deeply... That everything about him was more and meant more.

Alec, for his part, still had trouble letting go. He got lost in waves. The very second he was submerged, his instincts fought until he was back up, had him wash ashore. Probably a Shadowhunter thing, too, since the one fundamental rule that they were taught was that they must never lose control. Over _anything_ at all, but over themselves in particular. Or maybe it was his character? He had no clue. Time would tell. It didn’t matter now. Intrigued by the unfamiliarity of the familiar feeling of making out with his boyfriend, he sucked the tiniest bit at Magnus’s lower lip. It didn’t tickle the way it normally did. It felt warm, soft, welcoming, but different. It earned him a flick of tongue against his teeth that felt as deliberate as it was idle. But not electric. Not the way it usually was. “No magic,” he realized. Right. Cellar.

He let his hands slide down to Magnus’s throat, to the shoulders. With moderate force, he pushed them back against the stone wall and stepped closer to take up the room he’d just cleared. He imagined the contrast: the cold invading Magnus’s backside, his warmth smoothing into him from the front. He wondered what the sensation must be like.

Finally, he did what he liked to do so much, careful not to outwit himself just yet. He let the tips of his fingers enjoy the hardness of the Warlock’s strong arms, let them trail over the hot skin along his sides until they came to rest at his hips. With relish, he bore them into the bit where skin and fabric met. His mouth fell open, enfolding Magnus’s. Suddenly, it all felt very urgent. Without sparing a further thought, he yanked at the boxers and tried to shove them down. Then he remembered Magnus was still wearing his trousers, that this was just the rim peeping out. Damn it. Momentarily thrown off balance, he terminated the kiss.

Magnus made no other move but to gaze up at him out of with wide eyes. His lips were glistening. They looked... inviting. Alec had no way of telling whether Magnus was amused or not. Magnus’s focus shifted to Alec’s chest. It reminded Alec of what he’d tried to get him to do before. How he’d tried to direct him. They both knew very well this wouldn’t come naturally to him. Thinking about it felt weird enough. He took a step back, a quizzical expression on his face.

Thinking about it might be beside the point.

He put a hand to his chest and observed Magnus’s reaction. Magnus was paying attention, but his face gave away very little. Too little. With his spare hand, he caught Magnus’s chin and lifted it up. “You need to let me know what you want,” he tried to say with his eyes. He pressed his lips together, thinking “please”. It was that chasing movement that Magnus made which got Alec back on track. He must have thought Alec was going to kiss him again… and he’d been ready to lean in right away. There was a raw sort of hunger about Magnus’s wet, trembling lips that ran him straight over.

Alec got rid of the jacket quickly.

With the shirt, he did his best to extend the process. He felt a little foolish, boxed in and very much on display. It seemed impossible to undress in a way that Magnus might find at least remotely sexy when he could barely stretch out his arms. And yet Magnus’s face helped him past it. He kept following Alec’s every movement, his aureate features luminous in the dark, his mouth forming silent words of approval. He noticed how Magnus was lingering on one spot in particular and traced his gaze to the right side of his body. It must be his stamina rune. Putting a fleeting hand to the other’s cheek, Alec shook his head. There would be no need for that.

Magnus mirrored Alec’s shaking head and Alec had no clue whether or not Magnus approved of his choice. He tried to muster a smile, but he was too nervous, too aroused. He couldn’t do it this way. It was too slow. He felt they were running out of time. Within him ranted and raved urgency. He did its will and charged at Magnus. Magnus groaned into his mouth the instant their lips crashed back together. The Warlock was quivering. Faintly, he took note of how he was trying to find one of Alexander’s legs to create friction.

 

“I’m sorry,” he heard Alec whisper. “I’ll try that again another time. I can’t do things this way right now. I –. I don’t want to do anything wrong –.”

“Anything wrong?” Magnus’s voice was thick. It refused to be used for coherent speech. “You haven’t done anything wrong. As if. I just want you to keep doing what you would do. With me. Preferably soon. Very soon.” He was positively throbbing but cut out the “I need you to” bit nonetheless. It simply always sounded cheesy. Even when _he_ said it and even though it was almost painfully true. Or had he said it? Was that why Alexander was suddenly shaky? Or was he shaky himself?

 

“Hah,” Alec moaned against the corner of Magnus’s mouth. “Okay... Okay.” Magnus responded with a rushed, open-mouthed breath of his own before he let his head fall back. He welcomed the many small and awfully stimulating acts of kindness that Alexander provided his neck with. And his chest. Quite ready and pretty automatically, he arched his back when Alec’s tongue tickled his abdomen. It woke up all the numb spots, set fire to each and every nerve ending he came across. When Alexander got to his loins he was close to losing it. It was because he knew Alexander was obsessed with them. It filled his mind while Alexander caressed them in turns, a mess of tongue and hot and humid breaths, simultaneously fumbling with his belt. Magnus hadn’t expected Alexander to follow this path tonight. His ears were rushing. His blood was pumping. If he was making noise (and he was quite sure he was), he couldn’t hear it. The air he breathed was heady with sweat.

By some miracle, Alec managed to get rid Magnus’s trousers without making too much of a fuzz. Nibbling at the top of the Warlock’s left hipbone, he brought them and the boxers down to Magnus’s ankles. Bewildered and thrilled at the same time by the feeling of doing something so ‘obscene’ in a place like this, he wound his hands around both of Magnus’s knees. Softly, he urged them a little bit further apart. He didn’t want Magnus to fall over, but bare feet were no option on this floor. He didn’t exactly think Warlocks were prone to it, but he didn’t want to risk Magnus catching a cold either.

 

“You’re not cold, are you?” Suddenly he was very worried. The smell of Magnus’s arousal managed to rise to his head and cloud his judgement before he withdrew. “Are you cold? D’you want to go to my room now?” He asked.

“You have got to be kidding me,” sighed Magnus and put his palms on Alec’s hands. He gave them a squeeze. “I’m fine. Ablaze. Stop fretting.” As gently as he was able to in a situation this compromising – but as a matter of principle without any shame at all – he brought Alexander’s head back close and pronounced an airy “please”. His mind went pleasantly blank after that.

 

*-*-*-*

 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to at least lend you a hand,” Magnus wanted to know, perplexed. He folded his jacket and laid it over his arm.

 

Alexander had pulled off quite the feat (he wondered if he’d been talking to Izzy about _that_ and if he had, he wasn’t going to complain) and Magnus had needed a brief moment to collect himself. By the time he’d recovered, for whatever reason, Alec had put his clothes back on.

Literally, it’d been before Magnus had been able to count to three.

 

“Magnus,” he said in a serious tone. “It’s Jace. I think something’s wrong. I’m sorry to spoil the moment but I think I need to go to the office and check.”

 

Magnus, whose body had only just relaxed, tensed up. Was Alexander just nervous or was it something more? “Is it the Parabatai bond?” He asked. “Did Jace text you? Did Izzy? Do you think something happened with Valentine?”

“Yes, no, and… I don’t know,” Alec said, leaving the recess. “Maybe. Could be. God. Please… no.”

 

Magnus took Alexander’s hand. They looked at each other. Naturally, they were both afraid.

“We’ll deal with it, whatever it is,” Magnus said. Alec nodded. He didn’t seem convinced. He was on edge. His cheeks were still flushed a pretty deep red.

“Can I just… are you positive I can’t do anything for you before we go upstairs? If you could do anything to help them, we’d already know. Your siblings haven’t reached out to you yet. They’d try your phone first. Not the office. I’m sure of that. Maybe it’s just something Valentine said. Something they found out. Don’t let Valentine Morgenstern steal this moment from us. At least not yet.”

 

Magnus quickly assessed the situation as he spoke. It was just how he’d thought.

 

“I’ll make it quick,” he promised, hiding his angst behind a brave-looking, loving front and drew Alexander back into the shadows. Here, he undid Alec’s zipper and snook a hand into the young Shadowhunter’s pants.

“I bet you remember what they say about young men. They’re easy to excite _and_ they don’t last long.”

“And I bet you remember perfectly well how long you just lasted,” Alec growled, eyes only half-open. Magnus could tell he couldn’t help being consumed by the sensation. It made his heart jump.

“Oh. Most vividly,” he said, deliberately increasing pace and pressure. He guided one of Alexander’s hands to his hip and the other to his neck. He let himself be pulled in close enough to predict an absolutely shocking, entirely delightful future for the ‘Seelie’ in his bathroom into Alexander’s ear. Gently, he nuzzled his lobe and issued contend sighs and moans as Alexander cursed his lack of decency and rumpled through his hair and grabbed his butt. He dearly hoped he could return the favor so that the young Shadowhunter would, if only for a few more minutes, forget about Jace and Valentine.  

Gladly, it worked.

 

 

 

 

 

(And it really didn’t take that long.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I didn't stick to weekly updates. I got ill, my contract got prolonged for a couple more weeks (but I got put on crap shifts which shook up my biorhythm pretty badly :-/), and then I went to Soho myself to.... collect some more data :-).
> 
> I'll bring this story to its conclusion once we know where the finale will leave us... We can do this, right? We'll survive.... Right? :D........


End file.
